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This  book  was  presented  by 

PROF.  RICHARD  WALSER 


U^N 


O'U 


I         I 


Hearing;  the  air  cut  by  their  verdant  plumes, 
The  serpent  fled  ;  and,  to  their  stations,  back 
The  angels  ^ip  return'd  with  equal  flight. 


Canto  VIII..  lints  1 03 -1 07. 


Purgatory  and  Paradise 


TRANSLATED    BY 


THE  REV.  HENRY  FRANCIS  GARY,  MA. 


FROM    THE    ORIGINAL    OF 


DANTE    ALIGHIERI 


AND    ILLUSTRATED    WITH    THE    DESIGNS    OF 


M.  GUSTAVE  DORE 


NttD   (Ebition 


I  go  I 

THOMPSON  &   THOMAS 
CHICAGO 


THE    VISION     OF     DANTE. 


■JPurgfltorg. 


CANTO     I. 


ARGUMENT. 
The  Foet  describes  the  delight  he  experienced  *t  issuing  a  little  before  dawn  from  the  infernal  regions,  into  the  pore 

mir  that  surrounds  the  isle  of  Purgatory;  and  then  relates  how,  turning  to  the  right,  he  beheld  four  stars  never 
seen  before  but  by  our  first  parents,  and  met  on  his  left  the  shade  of  Cato  of  Utica,  who,  having  warned  him 
and  Virgil  what  is  needful  to  be  done  before  they  proceed  on  their  way  through  Purgatory,  disappears ;  and  the 
two  poets  go  towards  the  shore,  where  VirgU  cleanses  Dante's  face  with  the  dew,  and  girds  him  with  a  reed, 
u  Cato  had  commanded. 

O'ER  better  waves    to  speed  her  rapid  course 
The  light  bark  of  my  genius  lifts  the  sail, 
Well  pleased  to  leave  so  cruel  sea  behind; 
And  of  that  second  region  will  I  sing. 
In  which  the  human  spirit  from  sinful  blot 
Is  purged,  and  for  ascent  to  Heaven  prepares. 

Here,  O  ye  hallow'd  Nine!  for  in  your  train 
I  follow,  here  the  deaden'd  strain  revive; 
Nor  let  Calliope  refuse  to  sound 
A  somewhat  higher  song,  of  that  loud  tone 
Which  when  the  wretched  birds  of  chattering  note 
Had  heard,  they  of  forgiveness  lost  all  hope. 

Sweet  hue  of  eastern  sapphire,  that  was  spread 
O'er  the  serene  aspect  of  the  pure  air. 
High  up  as  the  first  circle,    to  mine  eyes 
Unwonted  joy  renew'd,  soon  as  I   'scaped 
Forth  from  the  atmosphere  of  deadly  gloom, 


THE    \-lS10X. 

That  had  mine  eyes  and  bosom  fill'd  with  grief. 
The  radiant  planet,    that  to  love  invites, 
Made  all  the  orient  laugh,    and  veil'd  beneath 
The  Pisces'  light,    that  in  his  escort  came. 

To  the  right  hand  I  turn'd,  and  fix'd  my  mind 
On  the  other  pole  attentive,  where  I  saw 
Four  stars    ne'er  seen  before  save  by  the  ken 
Of  our  first  parents.      Heaven  of  their  rays 
Seem'd  joyous.     O  thou  northern  site  I  bereft 
Indeed,  and  widow'd,  since  of  these  deprived. 

As  from  this  view  I  had  desisted,  straight 
Turning  a  little  towards  the  other  pole, 
There  from  whence  now  the  wain    had  disappcar'd, 
I  saw  an  old  man    standing  by  my  side 
Alone,  so  vyorthy  of  reverence  in  his  look, 
That  ne'er  from  son  to  father  more  was  owed. 
Low  down  his  beard,  and  mix'd  with  hoary  white, 
Descended,  like  his  locks,  which,  parting,  fell 
Upon  his  breast  in  double  fold.     The  beams 
Of  those  four  luminaries  on  his  face 
So  brightly  shone,  and  with  such  radiance  clear 
Deck'd  it,  that  I  beheld  him  as  the  sun. 

"  Say  who  are  ye,  that  stemming  the  blind  stream. 
Forth  from  the  eternal  prison-house  have  fled  ?" 
He  spoke  and  moved  those  venerable  plumes. 
"  Who  hath  conducted,  or  with  lantern  sure 
Lights  you  emerging  from  the  depth  of  night. 
That  makes  the  infernal  valley  ever  black? 
Are  the  firm  statutes  of  the  dread  abyss 
Broken,  or  in  high  heaven  new  laws  ordain'd. 
That  thus,  condemn'd,  ye  to  my  caves  approach?** 

My  guide,  then  laying  hold  on  me,  by  words 
And  intimations  given  with  hand  and  head. 
Made  my  bent  knees  and  eye  submissive  pay 
Due  reverence;    then  thus  to  him  replied: 

"Not  of  myself  I  come;  a  Dame  from  heaven 


54-89.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    I. 

Descending,  him  besought  me  in  my  charge 

To  bring.      But  since  thy  will  implies,  that  more 

Our  true  condition  I  unfold  at  large, 

Mine  is  not  to  deny  thee  thy  request. 

This  mortal  ne'er  hath  seen  the  furthest  gloom ; 

But  erring  by  his  folly  had  approach'd 

So  near,  that  little  space  was  left  to  turn. 

Then,  as;  before  I  told,  I  was  dispatch'd 

To  work  his  rescue  ;  and  no  way  remain'd 

Save  this  which  I  have  ta'en.      I  have  display'd 

Before  him  all  the  regions  of  the  bad ; 

And  purpose  now  those  spirits  to  display. 

That  under  thy  command  are  purged  from  sin. 

How  I  have  brought  him  would  be  long  to  say. 

From  high  descends  the  virtue,  by  whose  aid 

I  to  thy  sight  and  hearing  him  have  led. 

Now  may  our  coming  please  thee.      In  the  search 

Of  liberty  he  journeys ;  that  how  dear. 

They  know  who  for  her  sake  have  life  refused. 

Thou  knowest,  to  whofn  death  for  her  was  sweet 

In  Utica,  where  thou  didst  leave  those  weeds, 

That  in  the  last  great  day  will  shine  so  bright. 

For  us  the  eternal  edicts  are  unmoved : 

He  breathes,  and  I  of  Minos  am  not  bound, 

Abiding  in  that  circle,  where  the  eyes 

Of  thy  chaste  Marcia    beam,  who  still  in  look 

Prays  thee,  O  hallow'd  spirit  I    to  own  her  thine. 

Then  by  her  love  we  implore  thee,  let  us  pass 

Through  thy  seven  regions ;     for  which,  best  thanks 

I  for  thy  favour  will  to  her  return, 

If  mention  there  below  thou  not  disdain." 

"  Marcia  so  pleasing  in  my  sight  was  found." 
He  then  to  him  rejoin'd,  "while  I  was  there. 
That  all  she  ask'd  me  I  was  fain  to  grant. 
Now  that  beyond  the  accursed  stream  she  dwells. 
She  may  no  longer  move  me,  by  that  law, 


THE    VISION. 

Which  wa*?  ordain'd  me,  when  I  issued  thence 
Not  so,  if  Dame  from  heaven,  as  thou  sayst, 
Moves  and  directs  thee ;  then  no  flattery  needs. 
Enough  for  me  that  in  her  name  thou  ask. 
Go  therefore  now ;  and  with  a  slender  reed 
See  that  thou  duly  gird  him,  and  his  face 
Lave,  till  all  sordid  stain  thou  wipe  from  thence. 
For  not  with  eye,  by  any  cloud  obscured, 
Would  it  be  seemly  before  him  to  come, 
Who  stands  the  foremost  minister  in  heaven. 
This  islet  all  around,  there  far  beneath, 
Where  the  wave  beats  it,  on  the  oozy  bed 
Produces  store  of  reeds.      No  other  plant, 
Cover'd  with  leaves,  or  harden'd  in  its  stalk, 
There  lives,  not  bending  to  the  water's  sway. 
After,  this  way  return  not;   but  the  sun 
Will  show  you,  that  now  rises,  where  to  take? 
The  mountain  in  its  easiest  ascent." 

He  disappear'd ;   and  1  myself  upraised 
Speechless,  and  to  my  guide  retiring  close. 
Toward  him  turn-'d  mine  eyes.      He  thus  began : 
"  My  son  I    observant  thou  my  steps  pursue. 
We  must  retreat  to  rereward  ;    for  that  way 
The  champain  to  its  low  extreme  declines." 

The  dawn  had  chased  the  matin  hour  of  prime. 
Which  fled  before  it,  so  that  from  afar 
I  spied  the  trembling  of  the  ocean  stream. 

We  traversed  the  deserted  plain,  as  one 
Who,  wander'd  from  his  track,  thinks  every  step 
Trodden  in  vain  till  he  regain  the  path. 

When  we  had  come,  where  yet  the  tender  dew 
Strove  with  the  sun,  and  in  a  place  where  fresh 
The  wind  breathed  o'er  it,  while  it  slowly  dried ; 
Both  hands  extended  on  the  watery  grass 
My  master  placed,  in  graceful  act  and  kind. 
Whence  I  of  his  intent  before  apprised, 


■q  ^\\^-a 


The  radiant  planet,  that  to  love  invites, 
Made  all  the  orient  laugh,  and  veil'd  beneath 
The  Pisces'  light,  that  in  his  escort  came. 

Quito  A,  lines  1^-21 


My  guide,  then  laying  hold  on  me,  by  words 
And  intimations  given  with  hand  and  head. 
Made  my  bent  knees  and  eye  submissive  |)ay 
Due  rcveicncc. 

Caul,'  J  ,  lines  49-52. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   I. 

Stretch'd  out  to  him  my  cheeks  suffused  with  tears, 

There  to  my  visage  he  anew  restored 

That  hue  which  tWe  dun  shades  of  hell  conceal'd. 

Then  on  the  solitary  shore  arrived, 
That  never  sailing  on  its  waters  saw 
Man  that  could  after  measure  back  his  course, 
He  girt  me  in  such  manner  as  had  pleased 
Him  who  instructed  ;    and,  O  strange  to  tell  I 
As  he  selected  every  humble  plant. 
Wherever  one  was  pluck'd  another    there 
Resembling,  straightway  in  its  place  arose. 


CANTO 


ARGUM  ENT. 

They  behold  a  vessel  under  conduct  of  an  angel,  coming  over  the  waves  with  spirits  to  Purgatory,  among  whom, 
when  the  passengers  have  landed,  Dante  recognises  his  friend  Casella  ;  but,  while  they  aie  entertained  by  him 
with  a  song,  they  hear  Cato  exclaiming  against  their  negligent  loitering,  and  at  that  rebuke  hasten  forwards  to 
the  mountain. 

TV  TOW  had  the  sun    to  that  horizon  reach *d, 
•*-  ^      That  covers,  with  the  most  exalted  point 
Of  its  meridian  circle,  Salem's  walls ; 
And  night,  that  opposite  to  him  her  orb 
Rounds,  from  the  stream  of  Ganges  issued  forth, 
Holding  the  scales,    that  from  her  hands  are  dropt 
When  she  reigns  higiiest :     so  that  where  I  was, 
Aurora's  white  and  vermeil-tinctured  cheek 
To  orange  turn'd    as  she  in  age  increased. 

Meanwhile  we  linger'd  by  the  water's  brink. 
Like  men,    who,  musing  on  their  road,  in  thought 
Journey,  while  motionless  the  body  rests. 
When  lo  I    as,  near  upon  the  hour  of  dawn. 
Through  the  thick  vapours     Mars  with  fiery  beam 
Glares  down  in  west,  over  the  ocean  floor ; 
So  seem'd,  what  once  again  I  hope  to  view, 
A  light,  so  swiftly  coming  through  the  sea, 
No  winged  course  might  equal  its  career. 
From  which  when  for  a  space  I  had  withdrawn 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   II. 

Mine  eyes,  to  make  inquiry  of  my  guide, 

Again   I  look'd,  and  saw  it  grown  in  size 

And  brightness :    then  on  either  side  appeared 

Something,  but  what  I  knew  not,  of  bright  hue, 

And  by  degrees  from  underneath  it  came 

Another.      My  preceptor  silent  yet 

Stood,  while  the  brightness,  that  we  first  discern'd, 

Open'd  the  form  of  wings :   then  when  he  knew 

The  pilot,  cried  aloud,  "  Down,  down  ;    bend   low 

Thy  knees  ;    behold  God's  angel :    fold  thy  hands : 

Now  shalt  thou  see  true  ministers  indeed. 

Lo  I    how  all  human  means  he  sets  at  nought; 

So  that  nor  oar  he  needs,  nor  other  sail 

Except  his  wings,    between  such  distant  shores. 

Lo  I    how  straight  up  to  heaven  he  holds  them  rear'd, 

Winnowing  the  air    with  those  eternal  plumes. 

That  not  like  mortal  hairs  fall  off  or  change." 

As  more  and  more  toward  us  came,  more  bright 
Appear'd  the  bird  of  God,  nor  could  the  eye 
Endure  his  splendour  near :    I  mine  bent  down. 
He  drove  ashore  in  a  small  bark  so  swift 
And  light,  that  in  its  course  no  wave  it  drank 
The  heavenly  steersman  at  the  prow  was  seen, 
Visibly  written   Blessed  in  his  looks. 
Within,  a  hundred  spirits  and  more  there  sat. 

"  In  Exitu     Israel  de  Egypto," 
All  with  one  voice  together  sang,  with   what 
In  the  remainder  of  that  hymn  is  writ. 
Then  soon  as  with  the  sign  of  holy  cross 
He  bless'd  them,  they  at  once  leap'd  out  on  land : 
He,  swiftly  as  he  came,  return'd.      The  crew, 
There  left,  appear'd  astounded  with  the  place, 
Gazing  around,  as  one  who  sees  new  sights. 

From  every  side  the  sun  darted  his  beams. 
And  with  his  arrowy  radiance    from  mid  heaven 


THE   VISION. 

Had  chased  the  Capricorn,  when  that  strange  tribe, 
Lifting  their  eyes  toward  us:    "If  ye  know, 
Declare  what  path  will  lead  us  to  the  mount." 

Then  Virgil  answer'd  :    "  Ye  suppose,  perchance, 
Us  well  acquainted  with  this  place  :    but  here, 
We,  as  yourselves,  are  strangers.      Not  long  erst 
We  came,  before  you  but  a  little  space. 
By  other  road  so  rough  and  hard,  that  now 
The  ascent  will  seem  to  us  as  play."      The  spirits, 
Who  from  my  breathing  had   perceived   I  lived, 
Grew  pale  with  wonder.      As  the  multitude 
Flock  round  a  herald  sent  with  olive  branch, 
To  hear  what  news  he  brings,  and  in  their  haste 
Tread  one  another  down  ;    e'en  so  at  sight 
Of  me  those  happy  spirits  were  fix'd,  each  one 
Forgetful  of   its  errand  to  depart 
Where,  cleansed  from  sin,  it  might  be  made  all  fair. 

Then  one  I  saw  darting  before  the  rest 
With  such  fond  ardour  to  embrace  me,  I 
To  do  the  like  was  moved.     O  shadows  vain  1 
Except  in  outward  semblance :    thrice  my  hands 
I  clasp'd  behind  it,  they  as  oft  return 'd 
Empty  into  my  breast  again.      Surprise 
I   need  must  think  was  painted  in  my  looks. 
For  that  the  shadow  smiled  and  backward  drew. 
To  follow  it  I  hasten'd,  but  with  voice 
Of  sweetness  it  enjoin'd  me  to  desist. 
Then  who  it  was  I  knew,  and  pray'd  of  it, 
To  talk  with  me  it  would  a  little  pause. 
It  answer'd:    "Thee  as  in  my  mortal  frame 
I  loved,  so  loosed  from  it  I  love  thee  still. 
And  therefore  pause:    but  why  walkest  thou  here?" 

"  Not  without  purpose  once  more  to  return. 
Thou  find'st  me,  my  Casella,    where  I  am, 
Journeying  this  way,"  I  said.     "  But  how  of  thee 
Hath  so  much  time  been  lost  ?"       He  answer'd  straight 


PURGATORY.-CANTO    II. 

"  No  outrage  hath  been  done  to  me,  if   he, 
Who  when  and  whom  he  chooses  takes,  hath  oft 
Denied  me  passage  here  ;    since  of  just  will 
His  will  he  makes.     These  three  months  past     in  Ved, 
He,  whoso  chose  to  enter,  with  free  leave 
Hath  taken  ;   whence  I  wandering  by  the  shore 
Where  Tiber's  wave  grows  salt,  of  him  gain'd  kind 
Admittance,  at  that  river's  mouth,  toward  which 
His  wings  are  pointed  ;    for  there  always  throng 
All  such  as  not  to  Acheron  descend." 

Then  I  :    "If   new  law  taketh  not  from  thee 
Memory  or  custom  of  love-tuned  song, 
That  whilom  all  my  cares  had  power  to  'swage ; 
Please  thee  therewith  a  little  to  console 
My  spirit,  that  encumberd  with  its  frame, 
Travelling  so  far,  of   pain  is  overcome." 

"  Love,  that  discourses  in  my  thoughts,"    he  then 
Began   in  such  soft  accents,  that  within 
The  sweetness  thrills  me  yet.     My  gentle  guide, 
And  all  who  came  with  him,  so  well  were  pleased, 
That  seem'd  nought  else  might  in  their  thoughts  have  room. 

Fast  fix'd  in  mute  attention  to  his  notes 
We  stood,  when  lo  I  that  old  man  venerable 
Exclaiming,  "  How  is  this,  ye  tardy  spirits? 
What  negligence  detains  you  loitering  here? 
Run  to  the  mountain  to  cast  off  those  scales, 
That  from  your  eyes  the  sight  of  God  conceal." 

As  a  wild  flock  of  pigeons,  to  their  food 
Collected,  blade  or  tares,  without  their  pride 
Accustom'd,  and   in  still  and  quiet  sort. 
If  aught  alarm  them,  suddenly  desert 
Their  meal,  assail'd   by  more  important  care; 
So  I  that  new-come  troop  beheld,  the  song 
Deserting,  hasten  to  the  mountain's  side, 
As  one  who  goes,  yet,  where  he  tends,  knows  not. 

Nor  with  less  hurried  step  did  we  depart. 


CANTO     III 


ARGUM  ENT. 


Our  Poet,  perceiving  no  shadow  except  that  cast  by  his  own  body,  is  fearftri  that  Virgil  has  deserted  him  ;  but  h* 
is  freed  from  that  error,  and  both  arrive  together  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  On  finding  it  too  steep  to  climb, 
they  inquire  the  way  from  a  troop  of  spirits  that  are  coming  towards  them,  and  are  by  them  shown  which  is  the 
easiest  ascent.  Manfredi,  King  of  Naples,  who  is  one  of  these  spirits,  bids  Dante  inform  his  daughter  Costania, 
Queen  of  Arragon,  of  the  manner  in  which  he  had  died. 

T^HKM  sudden  flight  had  scatter'd  o'er  the  plain, 

-*■       Turn'd  towards  the  mountain,  whither  reason's  voice 
Drives  us  :    I,  to  my  faithful  company 
Adhering,  left  it  not.     For  how,  of  him 
Deprived,  might  I  have  sped?   or  who,   beside, 
Would  o'er  the  mountainous  tract  have  led   my  steps  ? 
He,  with  the  bitter  pang  of  self-remorse, 
Seem'd  smitten.     O  clear  conscience,  and   upright  I 
How  doth  a  little  failing  wound  thee  sore. 

Soon  as  his  feet  desisted  (slackening  pace) 
From  haste,  that  mars  all  decency  of  act. 
My  mind,  that  in  itself  before  was  wrapt. 
Its  thought  expanded,  as  with  joy  restored ; 
And  full  against  the  steep  ascent  I  set 
My  face,  where  highest    to  heaven  its  top  o'erflows. 

The  sun,  that  flared  behind,  with  ruddy  beana 
Before  my  form  was  broken  ;    for  in  me 
His  rays  resistance  met.     I  turn'd  aside 
With  fear  of  being  left,  when  I  beheld 
Only  before  myself  the  ground  obscured.  • 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    III. 

When  thus  my  solace,  turning  him  around, 
Bespake  me  kindly:    "Why  distrustest  thou? 
Bclievest  not  I  am  with  thee,  thy  sure  guide? 
It  now* is  evening  there,  where  buried  lies 
The  body  in  which   I  cast  a  shade,  removed 
To  Naples     from  Brundusium's  wall.     Nor  thou 
Marvel,  if  before  me  no  shadow  fall, 
More  than  that  in  the  skyey  element 
One  ray  obstructs  not  other.     To  endure 
Torments  of  heat  and  cold  extreme,  like  frames 
That  virtue  hath  disposed,  which,  how  it  works, 
Wills  not  to  us  should  be  reveal'd.     Insane, 
Who  hopes  our  reason  may  that  space  explore, 
Which  holds  three  persons  in  one  substance  knit. 
Seek  not  the  wherefore,  race  of  human  kind  ; 
Could  ye  have  seen  the  whole,  no  need  had  been 
For  Mary  to  bring  forth.     Moreover,  ye 
Have  seen  such  men  desiring  fruitlessly; 
To  whose  desires,  repose  would  have  been  given, 
That  now  but  serve  them  for  eternal  grief. 
I  speak  of  Plato,  and  the  Stagirite, 
And  others  many  more."     And  then  he  bent 
Downwards  his  forehead,  and  in  troubled  mood 
Broke  off  his  speech.      Meanwhile  we  had  arrived 
Far  as  the  mountain's  foot,  and  there  the  rock 
Found  of  so  steep  ascent,  that  nimblest  steps 
To  climb  it  had  been  vain.     The  most  remo*-"*. 
Most  wild,  untrodden  path,  in  all  the  tract 
Twixt  Lerice  and  Turbia,    were  to  this 
A  ladder  easy  and  open  of  access. 

"Who  knows  oa  which  hand  now  the  steep  declines?" 
My  master  said,  and  paused  ;    "so  that  he  may 
Ascend,  who  journeys  without  aid  of  wing?" 
And  while,  with  looks  directed  to  the  ground. 
The  meaning  of  the  pathway  he  explored, 


THE    VISION.  56-90. 

And  I  gazed  upward  round  the  stony  height; 
On  the  left  hand  appear'd  to  us  a  troop 
Of  spirits,  that  toward  us  moved  their  steps ; 
Yet  moving  seem'd  not,  they  so  slow  approaoh'd. 

I  thus  my  guide  address'd  :    "  Upraise  thine  eyes : 
Lo  !  that  way  some,  of  whom  thou  mayst  obtain 
Counsel,  if  of  thyself  thou  find'st  it  not." 

Straightway  he  look'd,  and  with  free  speech  replied  : 
•'  Let  us  tend  thither  :    they  but  softly  come. 
And  thou  be  firm  in  hope,  my  son  beloved." 

Now  was  that  crowd  from  us  distant  as  far, 
(When  we  some  thousand  steps,    I  say,  had  past,) 
As  at  a  throw  the  nervous  arm  could  fling; 
When  all  drew  backward  on  the  massy  crags 
Of  the  steep  bank,  and  firmly  stood  unmoved, 
As  one,  who  walks  in  doubt,  might  stand  to  look. 

"O  .spirits  perfect  1   O  already  chosen  I" 
Virgil  to  them  began  :   "by  that  blest  peace, 
Which,  as  I  deem,  is  for  you  all  prepared, 
Instruct  us  where  the  mountain  low  declines, 
So  that  attempt  to  mount  it  be  not  vain. 
For  who  knows  most,  him  loss  of  time  most  gricxes." 

As  sheep,    that  step  from  forth  their  fold,  bv  one, 
Or  pairs,  or  three  at  once;  meanwhile  the  rest 
Stand  fearfully,  bending  the  eye  and  nose 
To  ground,  and  what  the  foremost  does,  that  do 
The  others,  gathering  round  her  if  she  stops, 
Simple  and  quiet,  nor  the  cause  discern; 
So  saw  I  moving  to  advance  the  first, 
Who  of  that  fortunate  crew  were  at  the  head, 
Of  modest  mien,  and  graceful  in  their  gait. 
When  they  before  me  had  beheld  the  light 
From  my  right  side  fall  broken  on  the  ground, 
So  that  the  shadow  reach 'd  the  cave  ;  they  stopp'd. 
And  somewhat  back  retired  :    the  same  did  all 


Then  when  he  knew 
Tlie  pilot  cried  aloud,  "Down,  down;  bend  low 
Thy  knees;  behold  God's  angel:  fold  thy  hands: 
Now  shalt  thou  see  true  ministers  indeed." 


Cania  //. .  lines  27- 


The  heavenly  steersman  at  the  prow  was  seen, 
Visibly  written  Hlessed  in  his  looks. 

Canto  11. ,  lints  4»,  4: 


91—126.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    III. 

Who  follow'd,  though  unweeting  of  the  cause. 

"  Unask'd  of  you,  yet  freely  I  confess, 
This  is  a  human  body  which  ye  see. 
That  the  sun's  light  is  broken  on  the  grouno. 
Marvel  not :    but  believe,  that  not  without 
Virtue  derived  from  Heaven,  we  to  climb 
Over  this  wall  aspire."     So  them  bespake 
My  master;  and  that  virtuous  tribe  rejoin'd  : 
'•Turn,  and  before  you  there  the  entrance  lies;" 
Making  a  signal  to  us  with  bent  hands. 

Then  of  them  one  began.      "  Whoe'er  thou  ait, 
Who  journey 'st  thus  this  way,  thy  visage  turn  ; 
Ihink  if  me  elsewhere  thou  hast  ever  seen." 

I  towards  him  turn'd.  and  with  fix'd  eye  beheld. 
Comely  and  fair,  and  gentle  of  aspect 
He  seem'd,  but  on  one  brow  a  gash  was  mark'd. 

When  humbly  I  disclaim'd  to  have  beheld 
Him  ever:    "Now  behold  I"  he  said,  and  show'd 
High  on  his  breast  a  wound  :   then  smilmg  spak**. 

"I  am   Manfredi,    grandson  to  the  Queen 
Costanza :     whence  I   pray  thee,  when  return'd, 
To  my  fair  daughter    go,  the  parent  glad 
Of  Aragonia  and  Sicilia's  pride  ; 
And  of  the  truth  inform  her,  if  of  me 
Aught  else  be  told.     When  by  two  mortal  blows 
My  frame  was  shattet'd,  I  betook  myself 
Weeping  to  him,  who  of  free  will  forgives. 
My  sins  were  honible:    but  so  wide  arms 
Hath  goodness  infinite,  that  it  receives 
All  who  turn  to  it.      Had  this  text  divine 
Been  of  Cosenza's  shepherd  better  scann'd, 
Who  then  by  Clement  on  my  hunt  was  set, 
Yet  at  the  bridge's  head  my  bones  had  lain, 
Near  Benevento,  by  the  heavy  mole 
Protected  ;    but  the  rain  now  drenches  them, 
And  the  wind  drives,  out  of  the  kingdom's  bounds. 


14  THE   VISION. 

Far  as  the  stream  of  Verde,    where,  with  lights 

Extinguish'd,  he  removed  them  from  their  bed. 

Yet  by  their  curse  we  are  not  so  destroy'd, 

But  that  the  eternal  love  may  turn,  while  hope 

Retains  her  verdant  blossom.      True  it  is, 

That  such  one  as  in  contumacy  dies 

Against  the  holy  church,  though  he  repent, 

Must  wander  thirty-fold  for  all  the  time 

In  his  presumption  past ;    if  such  decree 

Be  not  by  prayers  of  good  men  shorter  mude. 

Look  therefore  if  thou  canst  advance  my  bliss; 

Revealing  to  my  good  Costanza  how 

Thou  hast  beheld  me,  and  beside,  the  terms 

Laid  on  me  of  that  interdict;  for  here 

By  means  of  those  below  much  profit  conies.* 


CANTO     IV. 


ARGUMENT. 

Oante  and  Virgil  ascend  tlie  mountain  of  Purgatory,  by  a  steep  and  narrow  path  pent  In  on  each  side  by  rock,  til! 
they  reach  a  part  of  it  that  opens  into  a  ledge  or  cornice.  There  seating  themselves,  and  turning  to  the  east, 
Dante  wonders  at  seeing  the  sun  on  their  left,  the  cause  of  which  is  explained  to  him  by  Virgil  ;  and  while  the) 
continue  their  discourse,  a  voice  addresses  them,  at  which  they  turn,  and  find  several  spirits  behind  the  rock, 
and  amongst  the  rest  one  named  Belacqua,  who  had  been  known  to  our  Poet  on  earth,  and  who  telJs  that  he  i» 
doomed  to  linger  there  on  account  of  his  having  delayed  his  repentance  to  the  last 

"\  ^  7"HEN     by  sensations  of  delight  or  pain, 
*  *       That  any  of  our  faculties  hath  seized, 
Entire  the  soul  collects  herself,  it  seems 
She  is  intent  upon  that  power  alone; 
•   And  thus  the  error  is  disproved,  which  holds 
The  soul  not  singly  lighted  in  the  breast. 
And  therefore  whenas  aught  is  heard  or  seen, 
That  firmly  keeps  the  soul  toward  it  turn'd, 
Time  passes,  and  a  man  perceives  it  not. 
For  that,  whereby  we  hearken,  is  one  power; 
Another  that,  which  the  whole  spirit  hath  : 
This  is  as  it  were  bound,  while  that  is  free. 

This  found  I  true  by  proof,  hearing  that  spirit, 
And  wondering;   for  full  fifty  steps    aloft 
The  sun  had  measured,  unobserved  of  me, 
When  we  arrived  where  all  with  one  accord 
The  spirits  shouted,   "  Here  is  what  ye  ask." 

A  larger  aperture  oft-times  is  stopt, 
With  forked  stake  of  thorn  by  villager, 
When  the  ripe  grape  imbrowns,  than  was  the  path 
By  which  my  guide,  and  I  behind  him  close, 
Ascended  solitary,  when  that  troop 
Departing  left  us.      On  Sanleo's    road 


I6  THE   VISION. 

Who  journeys,  or  to  Noli     low  descends, 

Or  mounts  Bismantua's    height,  must  use  his  feet; 

But  here  a  man  had  need  to  fly,  I  mean 

With  the  swift  wing    and  plumes  of  high  desire, 

Conducted  by  his  aid,  who  gave  me  hope, 

And  with  light  furnish'd  to  direct  my  way. 

We  through  the  broken   rock  ascended,  close 
Pent  on  each  side,  while  underneath,  the  ground 
Ask'd  help  of  hands  and  feet.     When  we  arrived 
Near  on  the  highest  ridge  of  the  steep  bank. 
Where  the  plain  level  open'd,  I  exclaim'd, 
"O  Master!  say,  which  way  can  we  proceed." 

He  answer'd,  "  Let  no  step  of  thine  recede^ 
Behind  me  gain  the  mountain,  till  to  us 
Some  practised  guide  appear."     That  eminence 
Was  lofty,  that  no  eye  might  reach  its  point; 
And  the  side  proudly  rising,  more  than  line 
From  the  mid  quadrant  to  the  centre  drawn. 
I,  wearied,  thus  began  :   "  Parent  beloved  I 
Turn  and  behold  how  I   remain  alone, 
If  thou  stay  not."     "My  son  I"  he  straight  replied, 
"Thus  far  put  forth  thy  strength;"    and  to  a  track 
Pointed,  that,  on  this  side  projecting,  round 
Circles  the  hill.     His  words  so  spurr'd  me  on, 
That  I,  behind  him,  clambering,  forced  myself, 
Till  my  feet  press'd  the  circuit  plain  beneath. 
There  both  together  seated,  turn'd  we  round 
To  eastward,  whence  was  our  ascent :  and  oft 
Many  beside  have  with  delight  look'd  back. 

First  on  the  nether  shores  I  turn'd  mine  eyes, 
Then  raised  them  to  the  sun,  and  wondering  mark'd 
That  from  the  left    it  smote  us.     Soon  perceived 
That  poet  sage,  how  at  the  car  of  light 
Amazed     I  stood,  where  'twixt  us  and  the  north 
Its  course  it  enter'd.     Whence  he  thus  to  me' 
"Were  Leda's  offspring    now  in  company 
Of  that  broad  mirror,  that  high  up  and  low 


23 — 60. 


And   I  gazed  upward   round  the  stony  heijrht : 
On  the  left  hand  appcar'd  to  us  a  troop 
Of   spirits,  that   toward    us    moved  their  steps : 
Yet  moving  seem'd  not,  they  so  slow  approach'd. 

Canto  ril.,  ftnea    iO--s» 


While  underneath,   tlie  j^'round 
Ask'd  help  of  hands  and   feet. 

Cafito  tV..  lines  .•»!.  ya 


6i— 97.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    IV.  17 

Imparts  his  light  beneath,  thou  mightst  behold 
The  ruddy  Zodiac  nearer  to  the  Bears 
Wheel,  if  its  ancient  course  it  not  forsook. 
How  that  may  be,  if  thou  wouldst  think;  within 
Pondering,  imagine  Sion  with  this  mount 
Placed  on  the  earth,  so  that  to  both  be  one 
Horizon,  and  two  hemispheres  apart, 
Where  lies  the  path    that  Phaeton  ill  knew 
To  g-uide  his  erring  chariot :  thou  wilt  see 
How  of  necessity  by  this,  on  one, 
He  passes,  while  by  that  on  the  other  side ; 
If  with  that  cleaf  view  thine  intellect  atteiul." 

"Of  truth,  kind  teacher!"  I  exclaim'd,  "so  clear 
Aught  saw  I  never,  as  I   now  discern, 
Where  seem'd  my  ken  to  fail,  that  the  mid  orb 
Of  the  supernal  motion  (which  in  terms 
Of  art  is  call'd  the  Equator,  and  remains 
Still  'twixt  the  sun  and  winter)  for  the  cause 
Thou  hast  assign'd,  from  hence  toward  the  north 
Departs,  when  those,  who  in  the  Hebrew  land 
Were  dwellers,  saw  it  towards  the  warmer  part. 
But  if  it  please  thee,  I  would  gladly  knvtw, 
How  far  we  have  to  journey :    for  the  hill 
Mounts  higher,  than  this  sight  of  mine  can  mount." 

He  thus  to  me :    "  Such  is  this  steep  ascent, 
That  it  is  ever  difficult  at  first. 
But  more  a  man  proceeds,  less  evil  grows.' 
When  pleasant  it  shall  seem  to  thee,  so  much 
That  upward  going  shall  be  easy  to  thee 
As  in  a  vessel  to  go  down  the  tide. 
Then  of  this  path  thou  wilt  have  reach'd  the  end. 
There  hope  to  rest  thee  from  thy  toil.     No  more 
I  answer,  and  thus  far  for  certain  know." 
As  he  his  words  had  spoken,  near  to  us 
A  voice  there  sounded  :   "  Yet  ye  first  perchance 
May  to  repose  you  by  constraint  be  led." 
At  sound  thereof  each  turn'd  ;    and  on  the  left 


i8  THE   VISION.  98-135. 

A  huge  stone  we  beheld,  of  which  nor  I 
Nor  he  before  was  ware.     Thither  we  drew ; 
And  there  were  some,  who  in  the  shady  place 
Behind  the  rock  were  standing,  as  a  man 
Through  idleness  might  stand.     Among  them  one, 
Who  seem'd  to  be  much  wearied,  sat  him  down. 
And  with  his  arms  did  fold  his  knees  about, 
Holding  his  face  between  them  downward  bent. 

"Sweet  Sir!"    I  cried,  "behold  that  man  who  shows 
Himself  more  idle  than  if  laziness 
Were  sister  to  him."      Straight  he  turn'd  to  us, 
And,  o'er  the  thigh  lifting  his  face,* observed. 
Then  in  these  accents  spake  :   "  Up  then,  proceed, 
Thou  valiant  one."      Straight  who  it  was  I  knew; 
Nor  could  the  pain  I  felt  (for  want  of  breath 
Still  somewhat  urged  me)  hinder  my  approach. 
And  when  I  came  to  him,  he  scarce  his  head 
Uplifted,  saying,  "Well  hast  thou  discern'd, 
How  from  the  left  the  sun  his  chariot  leads," 

His  lazy  acts  and  broken  words  my  lips 
To  laughter  somewhat  moved  ;   when  I  began : 
*'  Bclacqua,    now  for  thee  I  grieve  no  more. 
But  tell,  why  thou  art  seated  upright  there. 
^^'aitest  thou  escort  to  conduct  thee  hence? 
Or  blame  I  only  thine  accustom'd  ways?" 
Then  he  :   "  My  brother  I  of  what  use  to  mount. 
When,  to  my  suffering,  would  not  let  me  pass 
The  bird  of  God,    who  at  the  portal  sits  ? 
Behoves  so  long  that  heaven  first  bear  me  round 
Without  its  limits,  as  in  life  it  bore; 
Because  I,  to  the  end,  repentant  sighs 
Dclay'd  ;   if  prayer  do  not  aid  me  first, 
That  riseth  up  from  heart  which  lives  in  grace. 
What  other  kind  avails,  not  heard  in  heaven  ?" 

Before  me  now  the  poet,  up  the  mount 
Ascending,  cried  :   "  Haste  thee  :    for  see  the  sun 
Has  touch 'd  the  point  meridian ;  and  the  night 
Now  covers  with  her  foot  Marocco's  shore." 


CANTO    V. 


ARGUMENT. 


They  nwet  with  others,  who  had  deferred  their  repentance  till  they  were  overtaken  by  a  violent  death,  when  lufficieal 
space  being  allowed  them,  they  were  then  saved ;  and  amongst  these  Giacopo  del  Cassero,  Buonconte  da  Monte- 
feltro,  and  Pia,  a  lady  of  Sienna. 

XT  OW  had  I  left  those  spirits,  and  pursued 

^  ^       The  steps  of  my  conductor ;  when  behind, 

Pointing  the  finger  at  me,  one  exclaim'd  : 

"  See,  how  it  seems  as  if  the  light  not  shone 

From  the  left  hand    of  him  beneath,    and  he, 

As  living,  seems  to  be  led  on."      Mine  eyes 

I  at  that  sound  reverting,  saw  them  gaze. 

Through  wonder,  first  at  me ;  and  then  at  me 

'And  the  light  broken  underneath,  by  turns. 

"Why  are  thy  thoughts  thus  riveted,"  my  guide 

Exclaim'd,  "  that  thou  hast  slack'd  thy  pace  ?  or  how 

Imports  it  thee,  what  thing  is  whisper'd  here  ? 

Come  after  me,  and  to  their  babblings  leave 

The  crowd.      Be  as  a  tower,    that,  firmly  set, 

Shakes  not  its  top  for  any  blast  that  blows. 

He,  in  whose  Dosom  thougnt  on  tnought  shoots  out, 

Still  of  his  aim  is  wide,  in  that  the  on*e 

Sicklies  and  wastes  to  nought  the  other's  strength." 

What  other  could  I  answer,  save  "  I  come?" 
I  said  it,  somewhat  with  that  colour  tinged, 
Which  oft-times  pardon  meriteth  for  man. 

Meanwhile  traverse  along  the  hill  there  came, 
A  little  way  before  us,  some  who  sang 
The  "  Miserere "  in  responsive  strains. 
When  they  perceived  that  through  my  body  I 


TH-    VISION. 

Ga\c  way  not  for  the  rays  to  pass,  their  song 
Straight  to  a  long  and  hoarse  exclaim  they  changed; 
And  two  of  them,   in  guise  of  messengers, 
Ran  on  to  meet  us,  and   inquiring  ask'd  : 
"Of  vour  condition  we  would  gladly  learn." 

To  them  my  guide.      "Ye  may  return,  and  bear 
Tidings  to  fhem  who  sent  you,  that  his  frame 
Is  real  flesh.      If,  as  I  deem,  to  view 
His  shade  they  paused,  enough  is  answer'd  them: 
Him  let  them  honour:   they  may  prize  him  well." 

Ne'er  saw  I  fiery  vapours     with  such  speed 
Cut  through  the  serene  air  at  fall  of  night, 
Nor  August's  clouds  athwart  the  setting  sun, 
That  upward  these  did  not  in  shorter  space 
Return  ;   and,  there  arriving,  with  the  rest 
Wheel  back  on  us,  as  with  loose  rein  a  troop, 

"Many,"  exclaim'd  the  bard,  "are  these,  who  throng 
Around  us:    to  petition  thee  they  come. 
Go  therefore  on,  and  listen  as  thou  go'st." 

"  O  spirit  I   who  go'st  on  to  blessedness, 
With  the  same  limbs  that  clad  thee  at  thy  birth, 
Shouting  they  came:    "a  little  rest  thy  step. 
Look  if  thou  any  one  amongst  our  tribe 
Hast  e'er  beheld,  that  tidings  of   him  there 
Thou  mayst  report.      Ah,  wherefore  go'st  thou  on? 
Ah,  wherefore  tarricst  thou  not?     We  all 
By  violence  died,  and  to  our  latest  hour 
Were  sinners;  but  then  warn'd  by  light  from  heaven  ; 
So  that,  repenting  and  forgiving,  we 
Did  issue  out  of  life  at  peace  with  God, 
Who,  with  desire  to  see  him,  fills  our  heart." 

Then   I  ;    "  The  visages  of  all  I  scan, 
Yet  none  of  ye  remember.      But  if  aught 
That  I  can  do  may  please  you,  gentle  spirits  I 
Speak,  and  I  will  perform  it ;  by  that  peace, 
Which,  on  the  steps  of  guide  so  excellent 


-J^^^^ 


And  there  were  some,  who  in  the  shady  place 
Behind  the  rock  were  standing,  as  a  man 
Through  idleness  might  stand. 

Canto  II'.,  lines  loo-ioa. 


"Many,"  exclaim'd  the  bard,  "  are  these,  who  throng 
Around  us  :  to  petition  thee,  they  come. 
Go  therefore  on,  and  listen  as  thou  go'st." 

Canto  y.. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   V. 

Following,  from  world  to  world,  intent  I  seek.* 
In  answer  he  began  :    "  None  here  distrusts 
Thy  kindness,  though  not  promised  with  an  oath; 
So  as  the  will  fail  not  for  want  of  power. 
Whence  I,  who  sole  before  the  others  speak, 
Entreat  thee,  if  thou  ever  see  that  land 
Which  lies  between   Romagna  and  the  realm 
Of  Charles,  that  of  thy  courtesy  thou  pray 
Those  who  inhabit  Fano,  that  for  me 
Their  adorations  duly  be  put  up. 
By  which   I  may  purge  off  my  grievous  sins. 
From  thence  I  came.      But  the  deep  passages, 
Whence  issued  out  the  blood    wherein  I  dwelt, 
Upon  my  bosom  in  Antenor's  land 
Were  made,  where  to  be  more  secure  I  thought 
The  author  of  the  deed  was  Este's  prince. 
Who,  more  than  right  could  warrant,  with  his  wrath 
Pursued  me.     Had  I  towards  Mira  fled, 
When  overta'en  at  Oriaco,  still 
Might  I  have  breathed.     But  to  the  marsh  I  sped; 
And  in  the  mire  and  rushes  tangled  there 
Fell,  and  beheld  my  life-blood  float  the  plain." 

Then  said  another:  "Ah  I    so  may  the  wish, 
That  takes  thee  o'er  the  mountain,  be  fulfiU'd, 
A?  thou  shalt  graciously  give  aid  to  mine. 
Of   Montefeltro  I  ;    Buonconte  I : 
Giovanna     nor  none  else  have  care  for  me; 
Sorrowing  with  these  I  therefore  go."      I  thus: 
"  From  Campaldino's  field  what  force  or  chance 
Drew  thee,  that  ne'er  thy  sepulture  was  known?" 

"Oh  I"  answer'd  he,  "at  Casentino's  foot 
A  stream  there  courseth,  named  Archiano,  sprung 
In  Apennine  above  the  hermit's  seat. 
E'en  where  its  name  is  cancel'd,'   there  came  I, 
Pierced  in  the  throat,    fleeing  away  on  foot. 
And  bloodying  the  plain.      Here  sight  and  speech 


TIIF.    VISION. 


98-133- 


Fail'd  me ;    and,  finishing  with  Mary's  name, 

I  fell,  and  tenantless  my  flesh  remain'd. 

I  will  report  the  truth  ;    which  thou  again 

Tell  to  the  living.      Me  God's  angel  took,' 

Whilst  he  of  hell  exclaim'd  :    'O  thou  from  heaven: 

Say  wherefore  hast  thou  robb'd  me?      Thou  of  him 

The  eternal  portion  bear'st  with  thee  away. 

For  one  poor  tear    that  he  deprives  me  of. 

But  of  the  other,  other  rule  I  make.' 

"  Thou  know'st  how  in  the  atmosphere  collects 
That  vapour  dank,  returning  into  water 
Soon  as  it  mounts  where  cold  condenses  it 
That  evil  will,    which  in  his  intellect 
Still  follows  evil,  came ;    and  raised  the  wind 
And  smoky  mist,  by  virtue  of  the  power 
Given  by  his  nature.      Thence  the  valley,  soon 
As  day  was  spent,  he  cover'd  o'er  with  cloud, 
From  Pratomagno  to  the  mountain  range; 
And  stretch'd  the  sky  above  ;   so  that  the  air 
Impregnate  changed  to  water.     Fell  the  rain; 
And  to  the  fosses  came  all  that  the  land 
Contain'd  not ;   and,  as  mightiest  streams  are  wont, 
To  the  great  river,  with  such  headlong  sweep, 
Rush'd,  that  nought  stay'd  its  course.     My  sliffen'd  frame, 
Laid  at  his  mouth,  the  fell  Archiano  found, 
And  dash'd  it  into  Arno ;   from  my  breast 
Loosening  the  cross,   that  of  myself  I   made 
When  overcome  with  pain.     He  hurl'd  me  on, 
Along  the  banks  and  bottom  of  his  course; 
Then  in  his  muddy  spoils  encircling  wrapt." 

"  Ah  I    when  thou  to  the  world  shalt  be  return'd, 
And  rested  after  thy  long  road,"  so  spake 
Next  the  third  spirit;  "then  remember  me. 
I  once  was  Pia.       Sienna  gave  me  life; 
Maremma  took  it  from  me.      That  he  knows, 
Who  me  with  jewel'd  ring  had  first  espoused." 


CANTO     VI. 


ARGUMENT. 

Many  besides,  who  are  in  like  case  with  those  spoken  of  in  the  last  Canto,  beseech  our  Poet  to  obtain  for  them 
the  prayers  of  their  friends,  when  he  shall  be  returned  to  this  world.  This  moves  him  to  express  a  doubt 
to  his  guide,  how  the  dead  can  be  profited  by  the  prayers  of  the  living;  for  the  solution  of  which  doubt  he  is 
referred  to  Beatrice.  Afterwards  he  meets  with  Sordello,  the  Mantuan,  whose  affection,  shown  to  \Mgil,  his 
countryman,  leads  Dante  to  break  forth  into  an  invective  against  the  unnatural  divisions  with  which  luily,  ai.d 
more  especially  Florence,  was  distracted. 

\  A /"HEN  from  their  game  of  dice  men  separate, 
He  who  hath  lost  remains  in  sadness  fix'd, 
Revolving  in  his  mind     what  luckless  throws 
He  cast :   but,  meanwhile,  all  the  company 
Go  with  the  other;    one  before  him  runs, 
And  one  behind  his  mantle  twitches,  one 
Fast  by  his  side  bids  him  remember  him. 
He  stops  not ;  and  each  one,  to  whom  his  hand 
Is  stretch'd,  well  knows  he  bids  him  stand  aside; 
And  thus    he  from  the  press  defends  himself. 
E'en  such  was  I  in  that  close-crowding  throng; 
And  turning  so  my  face  around  to  all, 
And  promising,  I  'scaped  from  it  with  pains. 

Here  of  Arezzo  him     I  saw,  who  fell 
By  Ghino's  cruel  arm  ;  and  him  beside. 
Who  in  his  chase  was  swallow'd  by  the  stream. 
Here  Frederic  Novello,    with  his  hand 
Stretch'd  forth,  entreated  ;   and  of  Pisa  he. 
Who  put  the  good  Marzuco  to  such  proof 
Of  constancy.      Count  Orso     I  beheld  ; 
And  from  its  frame  a  soul  dismiss'd  for  spite 
And  envy,  as  it  said,  but  for  no  crime; 
I  speak  of  Peter  de  la  Brosse :    and  here, 
While  she  yet  lives,  that  Lady  of  Brabant, 
Let  her  beware;  lest  for  so  false  a  deed 


24  THE   VISION.  26—61. 

She  herd  with  worse  than  these.     When  I  was  freed 

From  all  those  spirits,  who  pray'd  for  others'  prayers 

To  hasten  on  their  state  of  blessedness; 

Straight  I  began:  "O  thou,  my  luminary  I 

It  seems  expressly  in  thy  text    denied. 

That  heaven's  supreme  decree  can  ever  bend 

To  supplication  :   yet  with  this  design 

Do  these  entreat.     Can  then  their  hope  be  vain? 

Or  is  thy  saying  not  to  me  reveal'd  ?  " 

He  thus  to  me  :   "  Both  what  I  write  is  plain, 
And  these  deceived  not  in  their  hope ;   if  well 
Thy  mind  consider,  that  the  sacred  height 
Of  judgment    doth  not  stoop,  because  love's  flame 
In  a  short  moment  all  fulfils,  which  he, 
Who  sojourns  here,  in  right  should  satisfy. 
Besides,  when  I  this  point  concluded  thus, 
By  praying  no  defect  could  be  supplied  ; 
Because  the  prayer  had   none  access  to  God. 
Yet  in  this  deep  suspicion  rest  thou  not 
Contented,  unless  she  assure  thee  so, 
Who  betwixt  truth  and  mind  infuses  light: 
I  know  not  if  thou  take  me  right;   I  mean 
Beatrice.       Her  thou  shalt  behold  above. 
Upon  this  mountain's  crown,  fair  seat  of  joy." 

Then  I  :   "  Sir  I  let  us  mend  our  speed  ;   for  now 
I  tire  not  as  before :  and  lo  1  the  hill 
Stretches  its  shadow  far."      He  answer'd  thus  : 
••  Our  progress  with  this  day  shall  be  as  much 
As  we  may  now  dispatch ;  but  otherwise 
Than  thou  supposest  is  the  truth.      For  there 
Thou  canst  not  be,  ere  thou  once  more  behold 
Him  back  returning,  who  behind  the  steep 
Is  now  so  hidden,  that,  as  erst,  his  beam 
Thou  dost  not  break.      But  lo  I  a  spirit  there 
Stands  solitary,  and  toward  us  looks  : 
It  will  instruct  us  in  the  speediest  way." 


62—97.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    VI.  25 

We  soon  approach'd  it.      O  thou   Lombard  spirit  I 
How  didst  thou  stand,  in  high  abstracted  mood, 
Scarce  moving  with  slow  dignity  thine  eyes. 
It  spoke  not  aught,  but  let  us  onward  pass, 
Eyeing  us  as  a  lion  on  his  watch. 
But  Virgil,  with  entreaty  mild,  advanced, 
Requesting  it  to  show  the  best  ascent. 
It  answer  to  his  question  none  return'd  ; 
But  of  our  country  and  our  kind  of  life 
Demanded.      When  my  courteous  guide  began, 
"  Mantua,"  the  shadow,  in   itself  absorb'd. 
Rose  towards  us  from  the  place  in  which  it  stood. 
And  cried,  "  Mantuan  I   I  am  thy  countryman, 
Sordello."        Each  the  other  then  embraced. 

Ah,  slavish  Italy;   thou  inn  of  grief  I 
Vessel  without  a  pilot  in  loud  storm  I 
Lady  no  longer  of  fair  provinces. 
But  brothel-house  impure  1   this  gentle  spirit. 
Even  from  the  pleasant  sound  of  his  dear  land 
Was  prompt  to  greet  a  fellow-citizen 
With  such  glad  cheer  :  while  now  thy  living  ones 
In  thee  abide  not  without  war;  and  one 
Malicious  gnaws  another;  ay,  of  those 
Whom  the  same  wall  and  the  same  moat  contains. 
Seek,  wretched  one  I  around  thy  sea-coasts  wide ; 
Then  homeward  to  thy  bosom  turn  ;  and  mark. 
If  any  part  of  thee  sweet  peace  enjoy. 
What  boots  it,  that  thy  reins  Justinian's  hand 
Refitted,  if  thy  saddle  be  unprest  ? 
Nought  doth  he  now  but  aggravate  thy  shame. 
Ah,  people  I  thou  obedient  still  shouldst  live, 
And  in  the  saddle  let  thy  Cassar  sit. 
If  well  thou  marked'st  that  which  God  commands. 

Look  how  that  beast  to  felness  hath  relapsed, 
From  having  lost  correction  of  the  spur, 
Since  to  the  bridle  thou  hast  set  thine  hand. 


26  THE    VISION.  98— "33. 

O  German  Albert  I    who  abandon'st  her 

That  is  grown  savage  and  unmanageable, 

When  thou  shouldst  clasp  her  flanks  with  forked  heels. 

Just  judgment  from  the  stars  fall  on  thy  blood  ; 

And  be  it  strange  and  manifest  to  all ; 

Such  as  may  strike  thy  successor    with  dread; 

For  that  thy  sire    and  thou  have  suffer'd  thus, 

Through  greediness  of  yonder  reahns  dciain'd, 

The  garden  of  the  empire  to  run  waste 

Come,  see  the  Capulets  and  Montagues, 

The  Filippeschi  and  Monaldi,    man 

Who  carest  for  nought  I  those  sunk  in  grief,  and  these 

With  dire  suspicion  rack'd.      Come,  cruel  one  I 

Come,  and  behold  the  oppression  of  the  nobles, 

And  mark  their  injuries;  and  thou  mayst  see 

What  safety  Santafiore  can  supply. 

Come  and  behold  thy  Rome,    who  calls  on  thee 

Desolate  widow,  day  and  night  with  moans, 

"My  Caisar,  why  dost  thou  desert  my  side?" 

Come,  and  behold  what  love  among  thy  people  : 

And  if  no  pity  touches  thee  for  us. 

Come,  and  blush  for  thine  own  report.      For  me. 

If  it  be  lawful,  O  Almighty  Power  I 

Who  wast  in  earth  for  our  sakes  crucified, 

Are  thy  just  eyes  turn'd  elsewhere?  or  is  this 

A  preparation,  in  the  wondrous  depth 

Of  thy  sage  counsel  made,  for  some  good  end, 

Entirely  from  our  reach  of  thought  cut  off? 

So  are  the  Italian  cities  all  o'erthrong'd 

With  tyrants,  and  a  great  Marcellus     made 

Of  every  petty  factious  villager. 

My  Florence  I  thou  mayst  well  remain  unmoved 
At  this  digression,  which  affects  not  thee  ; 
Thanks  to  thy  people,  who  so  wisely  speed. 
Many  have  justice  in  their  heart,  that  long 
Waiteth  for  counsel  to  direct  the  bow, 


>34— 153.  PURGATORV.-CANTO   VI.  27 

Or  ere  it  dart  unto  its  aim  :  but  thine 
Have  it  on  their  lip's  edge.      Many  refuse 
To  bear  the  common  burdens :  readier  thine 
Answer  uncall'd,  and  cry,  "  Behold  I  stoop  I" 

Make  thyself  glad,  for  thou  hast  reason  now, 
Thou  wealthy  I  thou  at  peace  !  thou  wisdom-fraught  I 
•  Facts  best  will  witness  if  I  speak  the  truth. 
Athens  and  Lacedaemon,  who  of  old 
Enacted  laws,  for  civil  arts  renown'd. 
Made  little  progress  in  improving  life 
Towards  thee,  who  usest  such  nice  subtlety, 
That  to  the  middle  of  November  scarce 
Reaches  the  thread  thou  in  October  weavest. 
How  many  times  within  thy  memory. 
Customs,  and  laws,  and  coins,  and  offices 
Have  been  by  thee  renew'd,  and  people  changed. 
If  thou  remember'st  well  and  canst  see  clear. 
Thou  wilt  perceive  thyself  like  a  sick  wretch, 
Who  finds  no  rest  upon  her  down,  but  oft 
Shifting  her  side,  short  respite  seeks  from  pain. 


CANTO    VII. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  approach  of  night  hindering  ftirther  ascent,  Sordello  conducts  our  Poet  apart  to  an  eminence,  from  whence 
they  behold  a  pleasant  recess,  in  form  of  a  flowery  valley,  scooped  out  of  the  mountain  ;  where  are  many  famous 
spirits,  and  among  them  the  Emperor  Rodolph,  Ottocar,  King  of  Bohemia,  Philip  III.  of  France,  Henry  of 
Navarre,  Peter  III.  of  Arragon,  Charles  I.  of  Naples,  Henry  III.  of  England,  ;ind  William,  Marquis  of 
Montferrat. 

AFTER  their  courteous  greetings  joyfully 
Seven  times  exchanged,  Sordello  backward  drew 
Exclaiming,  "Who  are  ye?" — "Before  this  mount 
.  By  spirits  worthy  of  ascent  to  God 
Was  sought,  my  bones  had  by  Octavius'  care 
Been  buried.      I  am  Virgil  ;  for  no  sin 
Deprived  of  heaven,  except  for  lack  of  faith." 
So  answer'd  him  in  few  my  gentle  guide. 

As  one,  who  aught  belore  him  suddenly 
Beholding,  whence  his  wonder  riseth,  cries, 
"  It  is,  yet  is  not,"  wavering  in  belief; 
Such  he  appear'd  ;  then  downward  bent  his  eyes, 
And,  drawing  near  with  reverential  step, 
Caught  him,  where  one  of  mean  estate  might  clasp 
His  lord.       "  Glory  of  Latium  I"  he  exclaim'd, 
"  In  whom  our  tongue  its  utmost  power  display'd ; 
Boast  of  my  honour'd  birth-place  I  what  desert 
Of  mine,  what  favour,  rather,  undeserved, 
.Shows  thee  to  me?      If  I  to  hear  that  voice 
Am  worthy,  say  if  from  below  thou  comest, 
And  from  what  cloister's  pale." — "  Through  every  orb 
Of  that  sad  region,"  he  replied,  "  thus  far 


Froin  111}'  breast 
Loosening  the  cross,  tliat  of  myself  I  made 
Wlien  overcome  with  pain. 


«'l 


'Then  remember  me. 


I  once  was  Pia." 


Canfe  I'.,  lines  1 30,  131. 


23—58-  PURGATORY.— CANTO    VII. 

Am  I  arrived,  by  heavenly  influence  led  : 

And  with  such  aid  I  come.      Not  for  my  doing, 

But  for  not  doing,  have  I  lost  the  sight 

Of  that  high  Sun,  whom  thou  desirest,  and  who 

By  me  too  late  was  known.      There  is  a  place 

There  underneath,  not  made  by  torments  sad. 

But  by  dun  shades  alone ;  where  mourning's  voice 

Sounds  not  of  anguish  sharp,  but  breathes  in  sighs. 

There  I  with  little  innocents  abide, 

Who  by  death's  fangs  were  bitten,  ere  exempt 

From  human  taint.      There  I  with  those  abide, 

Who  the  three  holy  virtues    put  not  on, 

But  understood  the  rest,    and  without  blame 

Follow'd  them  all.      But,  if  thou  know'st,  and  canst, 

Direct  us  how  we  soonest  may  arrive, 

Where  Purgatory  its  true  beginning  takes." 

He  answer'd  thus  :  "  We  have  no  certain  place 
Assign'd  us  :  upwards  I  may  go,  or  round. 
Far  as  I  can,  I  join  thee  for  thy  guide. 
But  thou  beholdest  now  how  day  declines  ; 
And  upwards  to  proceed  by  night,  our  power 
Excels:  therefore  it  may  be  well  to  choose 
A  place  of  pleasant  sojourn.      To  the  right 
Some  spirits  sit  apart  retired.      If  thou 
Consentest,  I  to  these  will  lead  thy  steps  : 
And  thou  wilt  know  them,  not  without  delight." 

"  How  chances  this  ?"  was  answer'd  :  "  whoso  wish'd 
To  ascend  by  night,  would  he  be  thence  debarr'd 
By  other,  or  through  his  own  weakness  fail  ?" 

The  good  Sordello  then  along  the  ground 
Trailing  his  finger,  spoke :  "  Only  this  line 
Thou  shalt  not  overpass,  soon  as  the  sun 
Hath  disappear'd  ;  not  that  aught  else  impedes 
Thy  going  upwards,  save  the  shades  of  night. 
These,  with  the  want  of  power,  perplex  the  will. 
With  them  thou  haply  mightst  return  beneath, 


29 


30  THE    VISION.  59_g^ 

Or  to  and  fro  around  the  mountain's  side 
Wander,  while  day  is  in  the  horizon  shut." 

My  master  straight,  as  wondering  at  his  speech, 
Exclaim'd  :  "  Then  lead  us  quickly,  where  thou  sayst 
That,  while  we  stay,  we  may  enjoy  delight." 

A  little  space  we  were  removed  from  thence, 
When   I  perceived  the  mountain  hollow'd  out, 
Even  as  large  valleys    hollow'd  out  on  earth. 

"  That  way,"  the  escorting  spirit  cried,  "  we  go, 
Where  in  a  bosom  the  high  bank  recedes : 
And  thou  await  renewal  of  the  day." 

Betwixt  the  steep  and  plain,  a  crooked  pnth 
Led  us  traverse  into  the  ridge's  side. 
Where  more  than  half  the  sloping  edge  expires. 
Refulgent  gold,  and  silver  thrice  refined, 
And  scarlet  grain  and  ceruse,  Indian  wood 
Of  lucid  dye  serene,  fresh  emeralds 
But  newly  broken,  by  the  herbs  and  flowers 
Placed  in  that  fair  recess,  in  colour  all 
Had  been  surpass'd,  as  great  surpasses  less. 
Nor  nature  only  there  lavish'd  her  hues, 
But  of  the  sweetness    of  a  thousand  smells 
A  rare  and  undistinguished  fragrance  made. 

"  Salve  Regina,"    on  the  grass  and  flowers, 
Here  chanting,   I  beheld  those  spirits  sit. 
Who  not  beyond  the  valley  could  be  seen. 

"  Before  the  westering  sun  sink  to  his  bed," 
Began  the  Mantuan,  who  our  steps  had  turn'd, 
"'Mid  those,  desire  not  that  I  lead  ye  on. 
For  from  this  eminence  ye  shall  discern 
Better  the  acts  and  visages  of  all, 
Than,  in  the  nether  vale,  among  them  mix'd. 
He,  who  sits  high  above  the  rest,  and  seems 
To  have  neglected  that  he  should  have  done. 
And  to  the  others'  song  moves  not  his  lip. 
The  Emperor  Rodolph     call,  who  might  have  heal'd 


95— 130.  PURGATORY.— CANTO   VII.  31 

The  wounds  whereof  fair  Italy  hath  died, 

So  that  by  others  she  revives  but  slowly. 

He,  who  with  kindly  visage  comforts  him, 

Sway'd  in  that  country,    where  the  water  springs. 

That  Moldaw's  river  to  the  Elbe,  and  Elbe 

Rolls  to  the  ocean  :   Ottocar    his  name : 

Who  in  his  swaddling  clothes  was  of  more  worth 

Than  Winceslaus  his  son,  a  bearded  man, 

Pamper'd  with  rank  luxuriousness  and  ease. 

And  that  one  with  the  nose  deprest,    who  close 

In  counsel  seems  with  him  of  gentle  look, 

Flying  expired,  withering  the  lily's  flower. 

Look  there,  how  he  doth  knock  against  his  breast. 

The  other  ye  behold,  who  for  his  cheek 

Makes  of  one  hand  a  couch,  with  frequent  sighs. 

They  are  the  father  and  the  father-in-law 

Of  Gallia's  bane :     his  vicious  life  they  know 

And  foul ;    thence  comes  the  grief  that  rends  them  thus. 

"  He,  so  robust  of  limb,    who  measure  keeps 
In  song  with  him  of  feature  prominent, 
With  every  virtue  bore  his  girdle  braced. 
And  if  that  stripling,    who  behind  him  sits, 
King  after  him  had  lived,  his  virtue  then 
From  vessel  to  like  vessel  had  been  pour'd ; 
Which  may  not  of  the  other  heirs  be  said. 
By  James  and  Frederick    his  realms  are  held ; 
Neither  the  better  heritage  obtains. 
Rarely    into  the  branches  of  the  tree 
Doth  human  worth  mount  up :  and  so  ordains 
He  who  bestows  it,  that  as  his  free  gift 
It  may  be  calTd.      To  Charles     my  words  apply 
No  less  than  to  his  brother  in  the  song  ; 
Which  Pouille  and  Provence  now  with  grief  confess. 
So  much  that  plant  degenerates  from  its  seed, 
As,  more  than  Beatrix  and   Margaret, 
Costanza    still  boasts  of  her  valorous  spouse. 


32  THE   VISION. 

"  Behold  the  king  of  simple  life  and  plain, 
Harry  of  England     sitting  there  alone  : 
He  through  his  branches  better  issue    spreads. 

"  That  one,  who,  on  the  ground,  beneath  the  rest, 
Sits  lowest,  yet  his  gaze  directs  aloft. 
Is  William,  that  brave  Marquis,    for  whose  cause, 
The  deed  of  Alexandria  and  his  war 
Makes  Montferrat  and  Canavese  weep." 


"Through  every  orb 
Of  that  sad  region,"  he  replied,  "thus  h 
Am  I  arrived." 


Cait/o  r//..  //««  21-23. 


^m 


4^^  ■  ^ 


"Salve  Regina,"  on  the  grass  and  flowers, 
Here  chanting,  I  beheld  those  spirits  sit, 
Who  not  beyond  the  valley  could  be  seen. 

Canto   r//..  !hi 


CANTO    VIII. 


ARGUMENT. 

Tw«  ingels,  with  flaming  swords  broken  at  the  points,  descend  to  keep  watch  over  the  valley,  into  which  Virgil  and 
Dante  entering  by  desire  of  Sordello,  our  Poet  meets  with  joy  the  spirit  of  Nino,  the  judge  of  Gallura,  one  who 
was  well  known  to  him.  Meantime  three  exceedingly  bright  stars  appear  near  the  pole,  and  a  serpent  creeps 
subtly  into  the  valley,  but  flees  at  hearing  the  approach  of  those  angelic  guards.  Lastly,  Conrad  Malaspina 
oredicts  to  our  Poet  his  future  banishment. 

"\  TOW  was  the  hour  that  wakens  fond  desire 
-''  ^      In  men  at  sea,  and  melts  their  thoughtful  heart 
Who  in  the  morn  have  bid  sweet  friends  farewell, 
And  pilgrim  newly  on  his  road  with  love 
Thrills,  if  he  hear  the  vesper  bell  from  far 
That  seems  to  mourn  for  the  expiring  day: 
When  I,  no  longer  taking  heed  to  hear. 
Began,  with  wonder,  from  those  spirits  to  mark 
One  risen  from  its  seat,  which  with  its  hand 
Audience  implored.      Both  palms  it  join'd  and  raised, 
Fixing  its  stedfast  gaze  toward  the  east, 
As  telling  God,  "  I  care  for  nought  beside." 

"  Te  Lucis  Ante,"    so  devoutly  then 
Came  from  its  lip,  and  in  so  soft  a  strain, 
That  all  my  sense    in  ravishment  was  lost. 
And  the  rest  after,  softly  and  devout, 
FoUow'd  through  all  the  hymn,  with  upward  gaze 
Directed  to  the  bright  supernal  wheels. 

Here,  reader  I    for  the  truth  make  thine  eyes  keen : 


34  Tin:   VISION. 

For  of  so  subtle  texture  is  this  veil, 

That  thou  with  ease  mayst  pass  it  through  unmark'd. 

I  saw  that  gentle  band  silently  next 
Look  up,  as  if  in  expectation  held. 
Pale  and  in  lowly  guise  ;    and,  from  on  high, 
I  saw,  forth  issuing  descend  beneath. 
Two  angels,  with  two  flame-illumined  swords, 
Broken  and  mutilated  of  their  points. 
Green  as  the  tender  leaves  but  newly  born, 
Their  vesture  was,  the  which,  by  wings  as  green 
Beaten,  they  drew  behind  them,  fann'd  in  air. 
A  little  over  us  one  took  his  stand  ; 
The  other  lighted  on  the  opposing  hill; 
So  that  the  troop  were  in  the  midst  contain'd. 

Well  I  descried  the  whiteness  on  their  heads; 
But  in  their  visages  the  dazzled  eye 
Was  lost,  as  faculty    that  by  too  much 
Is  overpower'd.      "  From  Mary's  bosom  both 
Are  come,"  exclaim'd  Sordello,  "as  a  guard 
Over  the  vale,  'gainst  him,  who  hither  tends. 
The  serpent."     Whence,  not  knowing  by  which  path 
He  came,  I  turn'd  me  round ;   and  closely  press'd, 
All  frozen,  to  my  leader's  trusted  side. 

Sordello  paused  not:   "To  the  valley  now 
(For  it  is  time)  let  us  descend ;  and  hold 
Converse  with  those  great  shadows :   haply  much 
Their  sight  may  please  ye."     Only  three  steps  down 
Mcthinks  I  measured,  ere  I  was  beneath. 
And  noted  one  who  look'd  as  with  desire 
To  know  me.     Time  was  now  that  air  grew  dim; 
Yet  not  so  dim,  that,  'twixt  his  eyes  and  mine, 
It  clcar'd  not  up  what  was  conceal'd  before. 
Mutually  towards  each  other  we  advanced. 
Nino,  thou  courteous  judge  I    what  joy  I  felt. 
When  I  perceived  thou  wert  not  with  the  bad. 

No  salutation  kind  on  either  part 


20— 55- 


56-91.  PURGATORY.— CA^^TO    VIII. 

Was  left  unsaid.     He  then  inquired  :   "  How  long, 

Since  thou  arrived'st  at  the  mountain's  foot, 

Over  the  distant  waves?" — "Oh!"  answer'd  I, 

"  Through  the  sad  seats  of  woe  this  morn  I  came ; 

And  still  in  my  first  life,  thus  journeying'  on, 

The  other  strive  to  gain."     Soon  as  they  heard 

My  words,  he  and  Sordello  backward  drew, 

As  suddenly  amazed.     To  Virgil  one. 

The  other  to  a  spirit  turn'd,  who  near 

Was  seated,  crying:  "Conrad!    up  with  speed: 

Come,  see  what  of  his  grace  high  God  hath  will'd." 

Then  turning  round  to  me :   "  By  that  rare  mark 

Of  honour,  which  thou  owest  to  him,  who  hides 

So  deeply  his  first  cause  it  hath  no  ford  ; 

When  thou  shalt  be  beyond  the  vast  of  waves, 

Tell  my  Giovanna,     that  for  me  she  call 

There,  where  reply  to  innocence  is  made. 

Her  mother,     I  believe,  loves  me  no  more; 

Since  she  has  changed  the  white  and  wimpled  folds, 

Which  she  is  doom'd  once  more  with  grief  to  wish. 

By  her  it  easily  may  be  perceived, 

How  long  in  woman  lasts  the  flame  of  love, 

If  sight  and  touch  do  not  relume  it  oft. 

For  her  so  fair  a  burial  will  not  make 

The  viper,     which  calls  Milan  to  the  field, 

As  had  been  made  by  shrill  Gallura's  bird." 

He  spoke,  and  in  his  visage  took  the  stamp 
Of  that  right  zeal,  which  with  due  temperature 
Glows  in  the  bosom.      My  insatiate  eyes 
Meanwhile  to  heaven  had  travel'd,  even  there 
Where  the  bright  stars  are  slowest,, as  a  wheel 
Nearest  the  axle ;   when  my  guide  inquired : 
**  What  there  aloft,  my  son,  has  caught  thy  gaze  ?" 

I  answered :  "  The  three  torches,    with  which  here 
The  pole  is  all  on  fire."      He  then  to  me  : 
"  The  four  resplendent  stars,  thou  saw'st  this  morn. 


THE    VISION. 

Are  there  beneath;    and  these,  risen  in  their  stead." 

\\  hilc  yet  he  spoke,  Sordello  to  himself 
Drew  him,  and  cried  :    "  Lo  there  our  enemy  I" 
And  with  his  hand  pointed  that  way  to  look. 

Along  the  side,  where  barrier  none  arose 
Around  the  little  vale,  a  serpent  lay, 
Such  haply  as  gave  Eve  the  bitter  food. 
Between  the  grass  and  flowers,  the  evil  snake 
Came  on,  reverting  oft  his  lifted  head; 
And,  as  a  beast  that  smooths  its  polish'd  coat, 
Licking  his  back.      I  saw  not,  nor  can  tell. 
How  those  celestial  falcons  from  their  seat 
Moved,  but  in  motion  each  one  well  descried. 
Hearing  the  air  cut  by  their  verdant  plumes. 
The  serpent  fled ;    and,  to  their  stations,  back 
The  angels  up  return'd  with  equal  flight. 

The  spirit,  (who  to  Nino,  when  he  call'd. 
Had  come,)  from  viewing  me  with  fixed  ken, 
Through  all  that  conflict,  loosen'd  not  his  sight. 

"  So  may  the  lamp,  which  leads  thee  up  on  high, 
Find,  in  thy  free  resolve,  of  wax  so  much. 
As  may  suffice  thee  to  the  enamel'd  height," 
It  thus  began  :  "  If  any  certain  news 
Of  Valdimagra    and  the  neighbour  part 
Thou  know'st,  tell  me,  who  once  was  mighty  there 
They  call'd  me  Conrad  Malaspina ;  not 
That  old  one ;    but  from  him  I  sprang.      Tlie  love 
I  bore  my  people  is  now  here  refined." 

"  In  your  domains,"  I  answer'd,  "  ne'er  was  I. 
But,  through  all  Europe,  where  do  those  men  dwell, 
To  whom  their  g\ory  is  not  manifest  ? 
The  fame,  that  honours  your  illustrious  house, 
Proclaims  the  nobles,  and  proclaims  the  laud; 
So  that  he  knows  it,  who  was  never  there. 
I  swear  to  you,  so  may  my  upward  route 
Prosper,  your  honour'd  nation  not  impairs 


Now  the  fair  consort  of  Titlionus  old, 
Arisen  from  her  mate's  beloved  arms, 
Lo  )k'd  palely  o'er  the  eastern  cliff. 

Ca:ro  !.\ 


Tlieie  both,  I  thought,  the  ciglc  ami  myself 
Did  burn  ;  and  so  intense  the  imagined  flames, 
That  needs  my  sleep  was  biolcen  off. 


128—138.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    VIII.  37 

The  value  of  her  coffer  and  her  sword. 

Nature  and  use  give  her  such  privilege, 

That  while  the  world  is  twisted  from  his  course 

By  a  bad  head,  she  only  walks  aright, 

And  has  the  evil  way  in  scorn."      He  then  : 

"  Now  pass  thee  on  :    seven  times  the  tired  sun 

Revisits  not  the  couch,    which  with  four  feet 

The  forked  Aries  covers,  ere  that  kind 

Opinion  shall  be  nail'd  into  thy  brain 

With  stronger  nails  than  others'  speech  can  drive ; 

If  the  sure  course  of  jud<;ment  be  not  stay'd." 


CANTO    IX. 


ARGUMENT. 
Daale  b  curied  up  the  mountain,  asleep   and  dreaming,   by  Lucia;  and,  on   wakening,   finds  himself,  two   boun 
after  sunrise,  with  Virgil,  near  the  gate  of  Purgatory,  through  which  they  are  admitted  by  the  angel  deputed 
by  St.  Peter  to  keep  it. 

XT  OW  the  fair  consort  of  Tithonus  old, 

^  ^      Arisen  from  her  mate's  beloved  arms, 

Look'd  palely  o'er  the  eastern  cliff;  her  brow, 

Lucent  with  jewels,  glitter'd,  set  in  sign 

Of  that  chill  animal,     who  with  his  train 

Smites  fearful  nations :   and  where  then  we  were, 

Two  steps  of  her  ascent  the  night  had  past ; 

And  now  the  third  was  closing  up  its  wing, 

When  I,  who  had  so  much  of  Adam  with  me, 

Sank  down  upon  the  grass,  o'ercome  with  sleep, 

There  where  all  five    were  seated.      In  that  hour, 

When  near  the  dawn  the  swallow  her  sad  lay, 

Remembering  haply  ancient  grief,     renews  ; 

And  when  our  minds,  more  wanderers  from  the  flesh, 

And  less  by  thought  restrain'd,  are,  as  't  were,  full 

Of  holy  divination  in  their  dreams  ; 

Then,  in  a  vision,  did  I  seem  to  view 

A  golden-feather'd  eagle    in  the  sky, 

With  open  wings,  and  hovering  for  descent ; 

And  I  was  in  that  place,  methought,  from  whence 

Young  Ganymede,  from  his  associates  'reft. 

Was  snatch'd  aloft  to  the  high  consistory. 

"  Perhaps,"  thought  I  within  me,  "  here  alone 

He  strikes  his  quarry,  and  elsewhere  disdains 

To  pounce  upon  the  prey."      Therewith,  it  seem'd, 

A  little  wheeling  in  his  aery  tour, 

Terrible  as  the  lightning,  rush'd  he  down, 

And  snatch'd  me  upward  even  to  the  fire. 

There  both,  I  thought,  the  eagle  and   myself 

Did  burn ;    and  so  intense  the  imagined  flames, 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    IX.  39 

That  needs  my  sleep  was  broken  off.      As  erst 

Achilles  shook  himself,  and  round  he  roll'd 

His  waken'd  eyeballs,  wondering  where  he  was, 

Whenas  his  mother  had  from  Chiron  fled 

To  Scyros,"  with  him  sleeping  in  her  arms  ; 

(There    whence  the  Greeks  did  after  sunder  him  ;) 

E'en  thus  I  shook  me,  soon  as  from  my  face 

The  slumber  parted,  turning  deadly  pale, 

Like  one  ice-struck  with  dread.      Sole  at  my  side 

My  comfort  stood  :   and  the  bright  sun  was  now 

More  than  two  hours  aloft:    and  to  the  sea 

My  looks  were  turn'd.      "  Fear  not,"  my  master  cried, 

"Assured  we  are  at  happy  point.      Thy  strength 

Shrink  not,  but  rise  dilated.      Thou  art  come 

To  Purgatory  now.      Lo  I    there  the  cliff 

That  circling  bounds  it.      Lo  I    the  entrance  there, 

Where  it  doth  seem  'disparted.      Ere  the  dawn 

Usher'd  the  day-light,  when  thy  wearied  soul 

Slept  in  thee,  o'er  the  flowery  vale  beneath 

A  lady  came,  and  thus  bespake  me  :    'I 

Am  Lucia.        Suffer  me  to  take  this  man, 

Who  slumbers.      Easier  so  his  way  shall  speed.' 

Sordello  and  the  other  gentle  shapes 

Tarrying,  she  bare  thee  up  :    and,  as  day  shone. 

This  summit  reach'd  :    and  I  pursued  her  steps. 

Here  did  she  place  thee.      First,  her  lovely  eyes 

That  open  entrance  show'd  me ;   then  at  once 

She  vanish'd  with  thy  sleep."      Liks  one,  whose  doubts 

Are  chased  by  certainty,  and  terror  turn'd 

To  comfort  on  discovery  of  the  truth, 

Such  was  the  change  in  me:   and  as  my  guide 

Beheld  me  fearless,  up  along  the  cliff 

He  moved,  and  I  behind  him,  towards  the  height. 

Reader!    thou  markest  how  my  theme  doth  rise; 
Nor  wonder  therefore,  if  more  artfully 
I  prop  the  structure.      Nearer  now  we  drew, 


THE   VISION. 

Arrived  whence,  in  that  part,  where  first  a  breach 

As  of  a  wall  appear'd,  I  could  descry 

A  portal,  and  three  steps  beneath,  that  led 

For  inlet  there,  of  different  colour  each  ; 

And  one  who  watch'd,  but  spake  not  yet  a  word. 

As  more  and  more  mine  eye  did  stretch   its  view, 

I   mark'd  him  seated  on  the  highest  step, 

In  visage  such,  as  past  my  power  to  bear. 

Grasp'd  in  his  hand,  a  naked  sword  glanced  back 

The  rays  so  towards  me,  that  I  oft  in  vain 

My  sight  directed.      "  Speak,  from  whence  ye  stand  ;" 

He  cried:    "What  would  ye?     Where  is  your  escort? 

Take  heed  your  coming  upward  harm  ye  not." 

"A  heavenly  dame,  not  skilless  of  these  things," 
Replied  the  instructor,  "told  us,  even  now, 
'Pass  that  way:    here  the  gate  is.'" — "And  may  she, 
Befriending,  prosper  your  ascent,"  resumed 
The  courteous  keeper  of  the  gate  :  "  Come  then 
Before  our  steps."      We  straightway  thither  came. 

The  lowest  stair    was  marble  white,  so  smooth 
And  polish'd,  that  therein  my  mirror'd  form 
Distinct  I  saw.      The  next  of  hue  more  dark 
Than  sablest  grain,  a  rough  and  singed  block, 
Crack'd  lengthwise  and  across.      The  third,  that  lay 
Massy  above,  seem'd  porphyry,  that  flamed 
Red  as  the  life-blood  spouting  from  a  vein. 
On  this  God's  angel  either  foot  sustain'd, 
Upon  the  threshold  seated,  which  appear'd 
A  rock  of  diamond.      Up  the  trinal  steps 
My  leader  checrly  drew  me.      "Ask,"  said  he, 
"With  humble  heart,  that  he  unbar  the  bolt." 

Piously  at  his  holy  feet  devolved 
I  cast  me,  praying  him  for  pity's  sake 
That  he  would  open  to  me;    but  first  fell 
Thrice  on  my  bosom  prostrate.      Seven  ti 
The  letter,  that  denotes  the  inward  stain. 


inics 


103—138.  PURGATORY.— CANTO   IX.  41 

He,  on  my  forehead,  with  the  blunted  point 

Of  his  drawn  sword,  inscribed.      And  "  Look,"  he  cried, 

"When  enter'd,  that  thou  wash  these  scars  away." 

Ashes,  or  earth  ta'en  dry  out  of  the  ground, 
Were  of  one  colour  with  the  robe  he  wore. 
From  underneath  that  vestment  forth  he  drew 
Two  keys,     of  metal  twain  :    the  one  was  gold, 
Its  fellow  silver.      With  the  pallid  first, 
And  next  the  burnish'd,  he  so  ply'd  the  gate, 
As  to  content  me  well.      "  Whenever  one 
Faileth  of  these,  that  in  the  key-hole  straight 
It  turn  not,  to  this  alley  then  expect 
Access  in  vain."      Such  were  the  words  he  spake. 
"  One  is  more  precious  :     but  the  other  needs 
Skill  and  sagacity,  large  share  of  each. 
Ere  its  good  task  to  disengage  the  knot 
Be  worthily  perform'd.       From  Peter  these 
I  hold,  of  him  instructed  that  I  err 
Rather  in  opening,  than  in  keeping  fast; 
So  but  the  suppliant  at  my  feet  implore." 

Then  of  that  hallow'd  gate  he  thrust  the  door, 
Exclaiming,  "  Enter,  but  this  warning  hear  : 
He  forth  again  departs  who  looks  behind." 

As  in  the  hinges  of  that  sacred  ward 
The  swivels  turn'd,  sonorous  metal  strong, 
Harsh  was  the  grating  ;     nor  so  surlily 
Roar'd  the  Tarpcian,    when  by  force  bereft 
Of  good  Metellus,  thenceforth  from  his  loss 
To  leanness  doom'd.      Attentively  I  turn'd. 
Listening  the  thunder  that  first  issued  forth  ; 
And  "  We  praise  thee,  O  God,"  methought  I  heard, 
In  accents  blended  with  sweet  melody. 
The  strains  came  o'er  mine  ear,  e'en  as  the  sound 
Of  choral  voices,  that  in  solemn  chant 
With  organ     mingle,  and,  now  high  and  clear 
Come  swelling,  now  float  indistinct  away. 


CANTO     X. 


ARGUMENT. 


Being  admitted  at  the  gate  of  Purgatory,  our  Poets  ascend  a  winding  path  up  the  rock  till  they  reach  an  open  and 
level  space  that  extends  each  way  round  the  mountain.  On  the  side  that  rises,  and  which  is  of  white  marble, 
are  seen  artfully  engraven  many  stories  of  humility,  which  whilst  they  are  contemplating,  there  approach  the 
•ouU  of  those  who  expiate  the  sin  of  pride,  and  who  are  bent  down  beneath  the  weight  of  heavy  stones. 

A  1 /"HEN  we  had  past  the  threshold  of  the  gate, 
(Which  the  soul's  ill  affection  doth  disuse, 
Making  the  crooked  seem  the  straighter  path,) 
I  heard  its  closing  sound.      Had  mine  eyes  turn'd, 
For  that  offence  what  plea  might  have  avail'd  ? 

We  mounted  up  the  riven  rock,  that  wound 
On  either  side  alternate,  as  the  wave 
Flies  and  advances.      "  Here  some  little  art 
Behoves  us,"  said  my  leader,  "  that  our  steps 
Observe  the  varying  flexure  of  the  path." 

Thus  we  so  slowly  sped,  that  with  cleft  orb 
The  moon  once  more  o'erhangs  her  watery  couch, 
Ere  we  that  strait  have  threaded.      But  when   free, 
We  came,  and  open,  where  the  mount  above 
One  solid  mass  retires  ;    I  spent  with  toil, 
And  both  uncertain  of  the  way,  we  stood. 
Upon  a  plain  more  lonesome  than  the  roads 
That  traverse  desert  wilds.      From  whence  the  brink 
Borders  upon  vacuity,  to  foot 
Of  the  steep  bank  that  rises  still,  the  space 
Had  measured  thrice  the  stature  of  a  man  : 
And,  distant  as  mine  eye  could  wing  its  flight. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   X.  43 

To  leftward  now  and  now  to  right  dispatch'd, 
That  cornice  equal  in  extent  appear'd. 

Not  yet  our  feet  had  on  that  summit  moved, 
When  I  discover'd  that  the  bank,  around, 
Whose  proud  uprising  all  ascent  denied, 
Was  marble  white  ;    and  so  exactly  wrought 
With  quaintest  sculpture,  that  not  there  alone 
Had  Polycletus,  but  e'en  nature's  self 
Been  shamed.      The  angel  (who  came  down  to  earth 
With  tidings  of  the  peace  so  many  years 
Wept  for  in  vain,  that  oped  the  heavenly  gates 
From  their  long  interdict)  before  us  seem'd. 
In  a  sweet  act,  so  sculptured  to  the  life. 
He  look'd  no  silent  image.      One  had  sworn 
He  had  said  "  Hail  I"    for  she  was  imaged  there, 
By  whom  the  key  did  open  to  God's  love ; 
And  in  her  act  as  sensibly  imprest 
That  word,  "  Behold  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord," 
As  figure  seal'd  on  wax.     "  Fix  not  thy  mind 
On  one  place  only,"  said  the  guide  beloved, 
Who  had  me  near  him  on  that  part  where  lies 
The  heart  of  man.     My  sight  forthwith  I  turn'd, 
And  mark'd,  behind  the  virgin  mother's  form. 
Upon  that  side  where  he  that  moved  me  stood, 
Another  story  graven  on  the  rock. 

I  past  athwart  the  bard,  and  drew  me  near, 
That  it  might  stand  more  aptly  for  my  view. 
There,  in  the  self-same  marble,  were  engraved 
The  cart  and  kine,  drawing  the  sacred  ark, 
That  from  unbidden  office  awes  mankind. 
Before  it  came  much  people  ;   and  the  whole 
Parted  in  seven  quires.     One  sense  cried  "  Nay," 
Another,  "  Yes,  they  sing."     Like  doubt  arose 
Betwixt  the  eye  and  smell,  from  the  curl'd  fume 
Of  incense  breathing  up  the  well-wrought  toil. 


44  THE   VISION. 

Preceding    the  blest  vessel,  onward  came, 

With  light  dance  leaping,  girt  in  humble  guibc, 

Israel's  sweet  harper;    in  that  hap  he  seem'd 

Less,  and  yet  more,  than  kingly.     Opposite, 

At  a  great  palace,  from  the  lattice  forth 

Look'd  Michol,  like  a  lady  full  of  scorn 

And  sorrow.     To  behold  the  tablet  next. 

Which,  at  the  back  of  Michol,  whitely  shone, 

I  moved  me.     There,  was  storied  on  the  rock 

The  exalted  glory  of  the  Roman  prince, 

Whose  mighty  worth  moved  Gregory    to  earn 

His  mighty  conquest,  Trajan  the  Emperor. 

A  widow  at  his  bridle  stood,  attired 

In  tears  and  mourning.     Round  about  them  troop'd 

Full  throng  of  knights  ;   and  overhead  in  gold 

The  eagles  floated,    struggling  with  the  wind. 

The  wretch  appear'd  amid  all  these  to  say  : 

"Grant  vengeance,  Sire  I    for,  woe  beshrew  this  heart, 

My  son  is  murder'd."     He  replying  seem'd  : 

"Wait  now  till  I  return."    And  she,  as  one 

Made  hasty  by  her  grief:    "O  Sire  I    if  thou 

Dost  not  return?" — "Where  I  am,  who  then  is. 

May  right  thee."— "  What  to  thee  is  other's  good. 

If  thou  neglect  thy  own?" — "Now  comfort  thee;" 

At  length  he  answers.     "  It  beseemeth  well 

My  duty  be  perform'd,  ere  I  move  hence ; 

So  justice  wills ;   and  pity  bids  me  stay." 

He,  whose  ken  nothing  new  surveys,  produced 
That  visible  speaking,  new  to  us  and  strange, 
The  like  not  found  on  earth.     Fondly  I  gazed 
Upon  those  patterns  of  meek  humbleness. 
Shapes  yet  more  precious  for  their  artist's  sake; 
When  "Lot"   the  poet  whisper'd,  "where  this  way 
(But  slack  their  pace)  a  multitude  advance. 
These  to  the  lofty  steps  shall  guide  us  on." 

Mine  eyes,  though  bent  on  view  of  novel  sights, 


58-93. 


iBiiiiiiiiifiim         *''"''^'  *!'''*"  id 


1 


In   visage  such,  as  past   my  power  to   bear. 

Cinto  /.v.,  line^^. 


"The  wretch  appear'd  amid  all  these  to  say  : 

"  Grant  vengeance,  Sire  !  for,  woe  beshrew  this  heart, 

My  son  is  murder'd." 


Canto  X.,  lines  74-76. 


94—128.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    X.  45 

Their  loved  allurement,  were  not  slow  to  turn. 

Reader  1    I  would  not  that  amazed  thou  miss 
Of  thy  good  purpose,  hearing  how  just  God 
Decrees  our  debts  be  cancel'd.     Ponder    not 
The  form  of  suffering.      Think  on  what  succeeds : 
Think  that,  at  worst,  beyond  the  mighty  doom 
It  cannot  pass.      "Instructor!"    I  began, 
"  What  I  see  hither  tending,  bears  no  trace 
Of  human  semblance,  nor  of  aught  beside 
That  my  foil'd  sight  can  guess."      He  answering  thus! 
"  So  courb'd  to  earth,  beneath  their  heavy  terms 
Of  torment  stoop  they,  that  mine  eye  at  first 
Struggled  as  thine.      But  look  intently  thither; 
And  disentangle  with  thy  labouring  view. 
What,  underneath  those  stones,  approacheth  :    now, 
E'en  now,  mayst  thou  discern  the  pangs  of  each." 

Christians  and  proud  I    O  poor  and  wretched  ones  I 
That,  feeble  in  the  mind's  eye,  lean  your  trust 
Upon  unstaid  perverseness  :    know  ye  not 
That  we  are  worms,  yet  made  at  last  to  form 
The  winged  insect,     imp'd  with  angel  plumes, 
That  to  heaven's  justice  unobstructed  soars  ? 
Why  buoy  ye  up  aloft  your  unfledged  souls? 
Abortive    then  and  shapeless  ye  remain, 
Like  the  untimely  embryon  of   a  worm. 

As,  to  support  incumbent  floor  or  roof. 
For  corbel,  is  a  figure    sometimes  seen, 
That  crumples  up  its  knees  unto  its  breast; 
With  the  feign'd  posture,  stirring  ruth  unfeign'd 
In  the  beholder's  fancy ;   so  I  saw 
These  fashion'd,  when  I  noted  well  their  guise. 

Each,  as  his  back  was  laden,  came  indeed 
Or  more  or  less  contracted  ;    and  it  seem'd 
As  he,  who  show'd  most  patience  in  his  look. 
Wailing  exclaim'd  :    "  I  can  endure  no  more." 


CANTO      XI, 


ARGUM  ENT. 


After  m  prayer  utteml  by  the  spirits  who  were  spoken  of  in  the  last  Canto,  Virgil  inquires  the  way  upwards,  and  is 
answered  by  one,  who  declares  himself  to  have  been  Omberto,  son  of  the  Count  of  Santafiore.  Next  our  Poet 
distinguishes  Oderigi,  the  illuminator,  who  discourses  on  the  vanity  of  worldly  fame,  and  points  out  to  him  the 
■oul  of  Provenzano  SalvanL 

*'  C^    THOU  Almighty  Father!    who  dost  make 
^-^     The  heavens  thy  dwelling,  not  in  bounds  confined, 
But  that,  with  love  intenser,  there  thou  view'st 
Thy  primal  effluence ;   hallow'd  be  thy  name : 
Join,  each  created  being,  to  extol 
Thy  might ;    for  worthy  humblest  thanks  and  praise 
Is  thy  blest  Spirit.       May  thy  kingdom's  peace 
Come  unto  us  ;    for  we,  unless  it  come, 
With  all  our  striving,  thither  tend  in  vain. 
As,  of  their  will,  the  angels  unto  thee 
Tender  meet  sacrifice,  circling  thy  throne 
With  loud  hosannas  ;    so  of  their's  be  done 
By  saintly  men  on  earth.      Grant  us,  this  day, 
Our  daily  manna,  without  which  he  roams 
Through  this  rough  desert  retrograde,  who  most 
Toils  to  advance  his  steps.     As  we  to  each 
Pardon  the  evil  done  us,  pardon  thou 
Benign,  and  of  our  merit  take  no  count. 
'Gainst  the  old  adversary,  prove  thou  not 
Our  virtue,  easily  subdued  ;    but  free 
From  his  incitements,  and  defeat  his  wiles. 
This  last  petition,  dearest  Lord  1    is  made 
Not  for  ourselves;   since  that  were  needless  now: 
But  for  their  sakes  who  after  us  remain." 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XI.  47 

Thus  for  themselves  and  us  good  speed  imploring, 
Those  spirits  went  beneath  a  weight  like  that 
We  sometimes  feel  in  dreams  ;   all,  sore  beset, 
But  with  unequal  anguish  ;    wearied  all ; 
Round  the  first  circuit  ;    purging  as  they  go 
The  world's  gross  darkness  off.      In  our  behoof 
If  their  vows  still  be  offer'd,  what  can  here 
For  them  be  vow'd  and  done  by  such,  whose  wills 
Have  root  of  goodness  in  them  ?       Well  beseems 
That  we  should  help  them  wash  away  the  stains 
They  carried  hence  ;   that  so,  made  pure  and  light, 
They  may  spring  upward  to  the  starry  spheres. 

"  Ah  I   so  may  mercy-tern per'd  justice  rid 
Your  burdens  speedily  ;    that  ye  have  power 
To  stretch  your  wing,  which  e'en  to  your  desire 
Shall  lift  you ;    as  ye  show  us  on  which  hand 
Toward  the  ladder  leads  the  shortest  way. 
And  if  there  be  more  passages  than  one, 
Instruct  us  of  that  easiest  to  ascend  : 
For  this  man,  who  comes  with  me,  and  bears  yet 
The  charge  of  fleshly  raiment  Adam  left  him, 
Despite  his  better  will,  but  slowly  mounts." 
From  whom  the  answer  came  unto  these  words. 
Which  my  guide  spake,  appear'd  not ;    but  'twas  said 
"  Along  the  bank  to  rightward  come  with  us; 
And  ye  shall  find  a  pass  that  mocks  not  toil 
Of  living  man  to  climb  :    and  were  it  not 
That  I  am  hinder'd  by  the  rock,  wherewith 
This  arrogant  neck  is  tamed,  whence  needs  I  stoop 
My  visage  to  the  ground ;    him,  who  yet  lives, 
Whose  name  thou  speak'st  not,  him  I  fain  would  view; 
To  mark  if  e'er  I  knew  him,  and  to  crave 
His  pity  for  the  fardel  that  I  bear. 
I  was  of  Latium ;     of  a  Tuscan  born, 
A  mighty  one :   Aldobrandesco's  name. 
My  sire's,  I  know  not  if  ye  e'er  have  heard. 


48  "m::  vision.  61—96. 

My  old  blood  and  forefathers'  gallant  deeds 
Made  me  so  haughty,  that  I  clean  forgot 
The  common  mother ;    and  to  such  excess 
Wax'd  in  my  scorn  of  all  men,  that  I   fell, 
Fell  therefore;    by  what  fate.  Sienna's  sons, 
Each  child  in  Campagnatico,  can  tell. 
I  am  Omberto  :    not  me,  only,  pride 
Hath  injured,  but  my  kindred  all  involved 
In  mischief  with  her.     Here  my  lot  ordains 
Under  this  weight  to  groan,  till   I  appease 
God's  angry  justice,  since  I  did  it  not 
Amongst  the  living,  here  amongst   the  dead." 

Listening  I  bent  my  visage  down  :    and  one 
(Not  he  who  spake)  twisted  beneath  the  weight 
That  urged  him,  saw  me,   knew  me  straight,  and  call'd; 
Holding  his  eyes  with  difficultly  fix'd 
InteiU  upon  me,  stooping  as  I  went 
Companion  of  their  way.      "O!"  I  exclaim'd, 
"Art  thou  not  Oderigi?    art  not  thou 
Agobbio's  glory,  glory  of  that  art 
Which  they  of  Paris  call  the  limner's  skill  ?" 

"Brotherl"  said  he,  "with  tints,  that  gayer  smile, 
Bolognian   Franco's    pencil  lines  the  leaves. 
His  all  the  honour  now;    my  light  obscured. 
In  truth,  I  had  not  been  thus  courteous  to  him 
'The  whilst  I  lived,  through  eagerness  of  zeal 
For  that  pre-eminence  my  heart  was  bent  on. 
Here,  of  such  pride,  the  forfeiture  is  paid. 
Nor  were  I  even  here,  if,  able  still 
To  sin,  I  had  not  turn'd  me  unto  God. 
0  powers  of  man  I    how  vain  your  glory,  nipt 
E'en  in  its  height  of  verdure,  if  an  age 
Less  bright  succeed  not.        Cimabue    thought 
To  lord  it  over  painting's  field  ;   and  now 
The  cry  is  Giotto's,    and  his  name  eclipsed. 
Thus  hath  one  Guido  from  the  other    snatch'd    . 


rV  RG .VVORY.—C AyVO    Xl. 

The  letter'd  prize  :    and  he,  perhaps,  is  born, 

Who  shall  (lri\-e  either  from  their  nest.     The  noise 

Of  worldly  fame  is  but  a  blast  of  wind, 

That  blows  from  diverse  points,  and  shifts  its  name, 

Shifting  the  point  it  blows  from.      Shalt  thou  more 

Live  in  the  mouths  of  mankind,  if  thy  flesh 

Part  shrivel'd  from  thee,  than  if  thou  hadst  died 

Before  the  coral  and  the  pap  were  left ; 

Or  e'er  some  thousand  years  have  past  ?   and  that 

Is,  to  eternity  compared,  a  space 

Briefer  than  is  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 

To  the  heaven's  slowest  orb.       He  there,  who  treads 

So  leisurely  before  me,  far  and  wide 

Through  Tuscany  resounded  once;    and   now 

Is  in   Sienna  scarce  with  whispers  named  : 

There  was  he  sovereign,  when  destruction  caught 

The  maddening  rage  of  Florence,  in  that  day 

Proud  as  she  now  is  loathsome.      Your  renown 

Is  as  the  herb,  whose  hue  doth  come  and  go  ; 

And   his  might  withers  it,  by  whom   [\  sprang 

Crude  from  the  lap  of  earth."      I   thus  to  him  : 

"True  are  thy  sayings:    to  my  heart  they  buMinc 

The  kindly  spirit  of  meekness,  and  allay 

What  tumours    rankle  there.      But  who  is  he, 

Of  whom  thou   spakest  but  now?"     "This,"  he  replied, 

"Is   Provenzano.      He  is  here,  because 

He  reach'd  with  grasp  presumptuous  at  the  sway 

Of  all  Sienna.     Tlu'.s  he  sti'.l   hcth  gone, 

Thus  goeth  never-resting,  since  he  died. 

Such  is  the  acquittance  render'd  back  of  him, 

Who,  in  the  mortal   life,  too  much  hath  dared.** 

I  then  :  "  If  soul,  that  to  life's  verge  delays 

Repentance,  linger  in  that  lower  space. 

Nor  hither  mount  (unless  good  prayers  befriend), 

Or  ever  time,  long  as  it  lived,  be  past ; 

How  chanced  admittance  was  vouchsafed  to  him?** 


49 


50 


THE   VISION. 

"When  at  his  glory's  topmost  height,"  said  he 
"  Respect  of  dignity  all  cast  aside, 
Freely  he  fix'd  him  on  Sienna's  plain, 
A  suitor    to  redeem  his  suffering  friend, 
Who  languish'd  in  the  prison-house  of  Charles; 
Nor,  for  his  sake,  refused  through  every  vein 
To  tremble.      More  I  will  not  say;   and  dark, 
I  know,  my  words  are ;   but  thy  neighbours  soon 
Shall  help  thee  to  a  comment  on  the  text. 
This  is  the  work,  that  from  these  limits  freed  him." 


CANTO    XII. 


ARGUMENT. 


ite  being  desired  by  Virgil  to  loolc  down  on  the  ground  which  they  are  treading,  observes  that  it  is  wroiight  ores 
with  imagery  exhibiting  various  instances  of  pride  recorded  in  history  and  fable.  They  leave  the  first  cornice, 
and  are  ushered  to  the  next  by  an  angel  who  points  out  the  way. 

"\yl /"ITH  equal  pace,  as  oxen  in  the  yoke, 

I,  with  that  laden  spirit,  journey 'd  on, 
Long  as  the  mild  instructor  suffer'd  me; 
But,  when  he  bade  me  quit  him,  and  proceed 
(For  "  Here,"  said  he,  "  behoves  with  sail  and  oars 
Each  man,  as  best  he  may,  push  on  his  bark"). 
Upright,  as  one  disposed  for  speed,  I  raised 
My  body,  still  in  thought  submissive  bow'd. 

I  now  my  leader's  track  not  loth  pursued; 
And  each  had  shown  how  light  we  fared  along. 
When  thus  he  warned  me :    "  Bend  thine  eyesight  down  : 
For  thou,  to  ease  the  way,  shalt  find  it  good 
To  ruminate  the  bed  beneath  thy  feet." 

As,  in  memorial  of  the  buried,  drawn 
Upon  earth-level  tombs,  the  sculptured  form 
Of  what  was  once,  appears  (at  sight  whereof 
Tears  often  stream  forth,  by  remembrance  waked, 
Whose  sacred  stings  the  piteous  often  feel). 
So  saw  I  there,  but  with  more  curious  skill 
Of  portraiture  o'erwrought,  whate'er  of  space 
From  forth  the  mountain  stretches.     On  one  part 
Him  I  beheld,  above  all  creatures  erst 
Created  noblest,  lightening  fall  from  heaven  : 
On  the  other  side,  with  bolt  celestial  pierced, 
Briareus ;   cumbering  earth  he  lay,  through  dint 
Of  mortal  ice-stroke.     The  Thymbraean  god, 


52  rill-:    VISION.  27— 6a 

With  Mars,    I  saw.  and  Pallas,  round  their  sire, 
Arm'd  still,  and  gazing  on  the  giants'  limbs 
Strewn  o'er  the  ethereal  field.      Nimrod  I  saw: 
At  foot  of  the  stuDendous  work   he  stood, 
As  if  bewilder'd,  looking  on  the  crowd 
Leagued  in  his  proud  attempt  on  Sennaar's  plain. 

O  Niobel    in  what  a  trance  of  woe 
Thee  I  beheld,  upon  that  highway  drawn, 
Seven  sons  on  either  side  thee  slain.      O  Saul  I 
How  ghastly  didst  thou  look,  on  thine  own  sword 
Expiring,  in  Gilboa,  from  that  hour 
Ne'er  visited  with  rain  from  heaven,  or  dew. 

O  fond  Arachne  I    thee  I  also  saw, 
Half  spider  now,  in  anguish,  crawling  up 
The  unfinish'd  web  thou  weaved'st  to  thy  bane. 

O   Rehoboam!     here  thy  shape  doth  seem 
Louring  no  more  defiance ;    but  fear-smote, 
With  none  to  chase  him,  in  his  chariot  whirl'd. 

Was  shown  beside  upon  the  solid  floor 
How  dear  Alcmaeon    forced  his  mother  rate 
That  ornament,  in  evil  hour  received  : 
How,  in  the  Temple,  on  Sennacherib    fell 
His  sons,  and  how  a  corpse  they  left  him  there. 
Was  shown  the  scath,  and  cruel  mangling  made 
By  Tomyris    on  Cyrus,  when  she  cried, 
"Blood  thou  didst  thirst  for:    take  thy  fill  of  blood." 
Was  shown  how  routed  in  the  battle  fled 
The  Assyrians,  Holofernes    slain,  and  e'^n 
The  relics  of  the  carnage.      Troy  I  mark'd 
In  ashes  and  in  caverns.      Oh  I    how  fallen, 
How  abject,  Ilion,  was  thy  semblance  there. 

What  master  of  the  pencil  or  the  style 
,    Had  traced  the  shades  and  lines,  that  might  have  made 
The  subtlest  workman  wonder?      Dead,  the  dead: 
The  living  seem'd  alive:   with  clearer  view, 
His  eye  beheld  not,  who  beheld  the  truth. 


With  equal  pace,  as  oxen  in  the  yoke, 
I,  with  that  laden  spirit,  journey'd  on. 
Long  as  the  mild  instructor  suffer'd  me. 


O  fond  Arachne!  thee  I  also  saw, 
Half  spider  now,  in  anguisli,  crawling  up 
The  unfinished  web  thou  weaved'st  to  thy  bane. 

Canlo  XII.,  lines  39-41. 


rU RG ATO R Y.— C A N TO    XII. 

Than  mine  what  I  did  tread  on,  while  I   went 
Low  bending.      Now  swell  out,  and  with  stiff  necks 
Pass  on,  ye  sons  of  Eve  I    vale  not  your  looks, 
Lest  they  descry  the  evil  of  your  path. 

I  noted  not  (so  busied  was  my  thought) 
How  much  we  now  had  circled  of  the  mount; 
And  of  his  course  yet  more  the  sun  had  spent; 
When  he,  who  with  still  wakeful  caution  went, 
Admonish'd  :    "Raise  thou  up  thy  head:    for  ki.ov 
Time  is  not  now  for  slow  suspense.      Behold, 
That  way,  an  angel  hasting  towards  us.     Lo,    ' 
Where  duly  the  sixth  handmaid    doth  return 
From  service  on  the  day.      Wear  thou,  in  look 
And  gesture,  seemly  grace  of  reverent  awe ; 
That  gladly  he  may  forward  us  aloft. 
Consider  that  this  day  ne'er  dawns  again." 

Time's  loss  he  had  so  often  warn'd  me  'gainst, 
I  could  not  miss  the  scope  at  which  he  aim'd. 

The  goodly  shape  approach 'd  us,  snowy  white 
In  vesture,  and  with  visage  casting  streams 
Of  tremulous  lustre  like  the  matin  star. 
His  arms  he  open'd,  then  his  wings;    and  spake; 
"  Onward  I    the  steps,  behold,  are  near ;    and  now 
The  ascent  is  without  difficulty  gain'd." 

A  scanty  few  are  they,  who,  when  they  hear 
Such  tidings,  hasten.      O  ye  race  of  men  I 
Though  born  to  soar,  why  suffer  ye  a  wind 
So  slight  to  baffle  ye  ?     He  led  us  on 
Where  the  rock  parted ;   here,  against  my  front. 
Did  beat  his  wings ;   then  promised  I  should  fare 
In  safety  on  my  way.      As  to  ascend 
That  steep,  upon  whose  brow  the  chapel  stands 
(O'er  Rubaconte,  looking  lordly  do\yn 
On  the  well-guided  city  ),  up  the  right 
The  impetuous  rise  is  broken  by  the  steps 
Carved  in  that  old  and  simple  age,  when  still 


54  Tin-:  VISION. 

The  registry    and  label  rested  safe ; 
Thus  is  the  acclivity  relieved,  which  here, 
Precipitous,  from  the  other  circuit  falls  : 
But,  on  each  ha.'    the  tall  cliff  presses  close. 

As,  entering,  there  we  turn'd,  voices,  in  strain 
Ineffable,  sang  :  "  Blessed    are  the  poor 
In  spirit."      Ah  I    how  far  unlike  to  these 
The  straits  of   hell  :    here  songs  to  usher  us, 
There  shrieks  of  woe.      We  climb  the  holy  stairs: 
And   lighter  to  my.sclf  by  far  I  seem'd 
Than  on  the  plain  before;   whence  thus  I  spake: 
"  Say,  master,  of  what  heavy  thing  have  I 
Been  lighten'd  ;    that  scarce  aught  the  sense  of  toil 
Affects  me  journeying?"      He  in  few  replied: 
"  When  sin's  broad  characters,-   that  yet  remain 
Upon  thy  temples,  though  well  nigh  effaced, 
Shall  be,  as  one  is,  all  clean  razed  out ; 
Then  shall  thy  feet  by  heartiness  of  will 
Be  so  o'ercome,  they  not  alone  shall  feel 
No  sense  of  labour,  but  delight  much  more 
Shall  wait  them,  urged  along  their  upward  way," 
Then  like  to  one,  upon  whose  head  is  placed 
Somewhat  he  deems  not  of,  but  from  the  becks 
Of  others,  as  they  pass  him  by;   his  hand 
,  Lends  therefore  help  to  assure  him,  searches,  finds, 

And  well  performs  such  office  as  the  eye 
Wants  power  to  execute ;   so  stretching  forth 
The  fingers  of  my  right  hand,  did  I  find 
Six  only  of  the  letters,  which  his  sword. 
Who  bare  the  keys,  had  traced  upon  my  brow. 
The  leader,  as  he  mark'd  mine  action,  smiled. 


CANTO     XTIl. 


ARGUMENT. 


They  gain  the  second  cornice,  where  the  sin  of  envy  is  purged  ;  and  having  proceeded  a  !itt;«  to  the  right,  they 
hear  voices  utterea  by  invisible  spirits  recounting  famous  examples  of  charity,  and  next  behold  the  shades,  or  souls, 
of  the  envious  clad  in  sackcloth,  and  having  their  ey"?s  sewed  tip  witl.  an  iron  thread.  Amongst  these  Dante  finds 
Sapia,  a  Siennese  lady,  from  whom  he  learns  the  cause  of  her  being  there. 

"\  ^/"E  reach'd  the  summit  of  the  scale,  and  stood 

^  '        Upon  the  second  buttress  of  that  mount 
Which  healeth  him  who  climbs.      A  cornice  there, 
Like  to  the  former,  girdles  round  the  hill  ; 
Save  that  its  arch,  with  sweep  less  ample,  bends. 

Shadow,  nor  image  there,  is  seen  :    all  smooth 
The  rampart  and  the  path,  reflectin^j;^  nought 
But  the  rock's  sullen  hue.      "  If  here  we  wait, 
For  some  to  question,"    said  the  bard,    "  I   fear 
Our  choice  may  haply  meet  too  long  delay." 

Then   fixctlly  ui)on  the  sun   his  eyes 
He  fa.stcn'd  ;    made  his  right  the  central   point 
From  w  hence  to  move ;    and  turn'd  the  left  aside. 
"O  pleasant  light,   my  confidence  and   hope  I 
Conduct  us  thou,"    he  cried,    "  on  this  new  way, 
Where  now  I   xcnture  ;    leading  to  the  bourn 
We  seek.      The  universal   world   to  thee 
Owes  warmth  and  lustre.      If    no  other  cause 
Forbid,  thy  beams  should  ever  be  our  yunle," 

Far,  as  is  measured  for  a  mile  on  earth. 
In  brief  space  had  we  journey 'd  ;    such  prompt  will 
Impell'd  ;    and  towards  us  flying,   now  were  heard 
Spirits  invisible,  who  courteously 
Unto  love's  table  bade  the  welcome  guest. 
Tin;  \cice  that  first  fltw  b)',  call'd   (ortii  ai'.'-;''. 
"They   have  no  wuic,"     so  on  behind  us  past. 


56  THE    VISION. 

Those  sounds  reiterating,  nor  yet  lost 

In  the  faint  distance,  when  another  came 

Crying,  "  I  am  Orestes,"    and  alike 

Wing'd  its  fleet  way.      "O  father  I"    I  exclaim'd, 

"What  tongues  are  these?"  and  as  I  question'd,  lo! 

A  third  exclaiming,  "  Love  ye  those  have  wrong'd  you." 

"  This  circuit,"  said  my  teacher,  "  knots  the  scourge 
For  envy ;   and  the  cords  are  therefore  drawn 
By  charity's  correcting  hand.      The  curb 
Is  of  a  harsher  sound  ;    as  thou  shalt  hear 
(If   I  deem  rightly)  ere  thou  reach  the  pass. 
Where  pardon  sets  them  free.      But  fix  thine  eyes 
Intently  through  the  air  ;    and  thou  shalt  see 
A  multitude  before  thee  seated,  each 
Along  the  shelving  grot."     Then  more  than  erst 
I  oped  mine  eyes  ;    before  me  view'd ;    and  saw 
Shadows  with  garments  dark  as  was  the  rock ; 
And  when  we  pass'd  a  little  forth,  I  heard 
A  crying,  "  Blessed  Mary  I    pray  for  us, 
Michael  and  Peter  1    all  ye  saintly  host  I" 

I  do  not  think  there  walks  on  earth  this  day 
Man  so  remorseless,  that  he  had  not  yearn'd 
With  pity  at  the  sight  that  next  I  saw. 
Mine  eyes  a  load  of   sorrow  teem'd,  when  now 
I  stood  so  near  them,  that  their  semblances 
Came  clearly  to  my  view.      Of  sackcloth  vile 
Their  covering  seem'd  ;   and,  on  his  shoulder,  one 
Did  stay  another,  leaning ;   and  all  lean'd 
Against  the  cliff.      E'en  thus  the  blind  and  poor, 
Near  the  confessionals,  to  crave  an  alms. 
Stand,  each  his  head  upon  his  fellow's  sunk; 
So  most  to  stir  compassion,  not  by  sound 
Of  words  alone,  but  that  which  moves  not  less, 
The  sight  of  misery.      And  as  never  beam 
Of  noon-day  visiteth  the  eyeless  man. 
E'en  so  was  heaven  a  niggard  unto  these 
Of   his  fair  light ;    for  through  the  orbs  of  all, 


64— loo  PURGATORY.— CANTO    XIII.  57 

A  thread  of  wire,  impiercing,  knits  them  up, 
As  for  the  taming  of  a  haggard  hawk. 

It  were  a  wrong,  methought,  to  pass  and  look 
On  others,  yet  myself  the  while  unseen. 
To  my  sage  counsel  therefore  did  I  turn. 
He  knew  the  meaning  of   the  mute  appeal, 
Nor  waited  for  my  questioning,  but  said  : 
"  Speak,  and  be  brief,  be  subtile  in  thy  words." 

On  that  part  of  the  cornice,  whence  no  rim 
Engarlands  its  steep  fall,  did  Virgil  come; 
On  the  other  side  me  were  the  spirits,  their  cheeks 
Bathing  devout  with  penitential  tears. 
That  through  the  dread  impalement  forced  a  way. 

I  turn'd  me  to  them,  and    '■'  O  shades  I"   said  I, 
"  Assured  that  to  your  eyes  unveil'd  shall  shine 
The  lofty  light,  sole  object  of  your  wish, 
So  may  heaven's  grace    clear  whatsoe'er  of  foam 
Floats  turbid  on  the  conscience,  that  thenceforth 
The  stream  of  mind  roll  limpid  from  its  source; 
As  ye  declare  (for  so  shall  ye  impart 
A  boon  I  dearly  prize)  if  any  soul 
Of  Latium  dwell  among  ye  :   and  perchance 
That  soul  may  profit,  if  I  learn  so  much." 

"  My  brother  I   we  are,  each  one,  citizens 
Of  one  true  city.       Any,  thou  wouldst  say. 
Who  lived  a  stranger  in  Italia's  land." 

So  heard   I  answering,  as  appear'd,  a  voice, 
That  onward  came  some  space  from  whence  I  stood. 

A  spirit  I   noted,  in  whose  look  was  mark'd 
Expectance.      Ask  ye  how  ?     The  chin  was  raised 
As  in  one  reft  of  sight.      "  Spirit,"   said  I, 
"  Who  for  thy  rise  art  tutoring  (if  thou  be 
That  which  didst  answer  to  me),  or  by  place, 
Or  name,  disclose  thyself,  that  I  may  know  thee." 

"  I  was,"  it  answer'd,  "  of  Sienna  :    here 
I  cleanse  away  with  these  the  evil  life, 
Soliciting  with  tears  that  He,  who  is. 


THE   VISION. 

Vouchsafe  him  to  us.      Though  Sapia    named, 

In  sapience  I  excell'd  not ;   gladder  far 

Of  other's  hurt,  than  of  the  good  befel  me. 

That  thou  mayst  own  I  now  deceive  thee  not 

Hear,  if  my  folly  were  not  as  I  speak  it. 

When  now  my  years  sloped  waning  down  the  arch, 

It  so  bechanced,  my  fellow-citizens 

Near  Colle  met  their  enemies  in  the  field ; 

And  I  pray'd  God  to  grant  what  He  had  will'd. 

There  were  they  vanquish'd,  and  betook  themselves 

Unto  the  bitter  passages  of  flight. 

I  mark'd  the  hunt ;   and  waxing  out  of  bounds 

In  gladness,  lifted  up  my  shameless  brow, 

And,  like  the  merlin    cheated  by  a  gleam, 

Cried,  '  It  is  over.      Heaven  1    I  fear  thee  not* 

Upon  my  verge  of  life  I  wish'd  for  peace 

With  God;    nor  yet  repentance  had  supplied 

What  I  did  lack  of  duty,  were  it  not 

The  hermit  Piero,    touch'd  with  charity, 

In  his  devout  oraisons  thought  on  me. 

But  who  art  thou  that  question'st  of  our  state. 

Who  go'st,  as  I  believe,  with  lids  unclosed. 

And  breathest  in  thy  talk?" — "Mine  eyes,"  said  I, 

"  May  yet  be  here  ta'en  from  me ;    but  not  long  ; 

For  they  have  not  offended  grievously 

With  envious  glances.     But  the  woe  beneath 

Urges  my  soul  with  more  exceeding  dread. 

That  nether  load  already  weighs  me  down." 

She  thus  :    "  Who  then,  amongst  us  here  aloft, 
Hath   brought  thee,  if  thou  weenest  to  return  ?" 

"  He,"  answered  I,  "  who  standeth  mute  beside  me. 
I  live:   of  me  ask  therefore,  chosen  spirit  1 
If  thou  desire  I  yonder  yet  should  move 
For  thee  my  mortal   feet." — "Oh  I"  she  replied, 
"This  is  so  strange  a  thing,  it  is  great  sign 


136-145-  PURCiATORY.— CANTO    XIII,  59 

That  God  doth  love  thee.      Therefore  with  thy  prayer 
Sometime  assist  me ;    and,  by  that  I  crave, 
Which  most  thou  covetest,  that  if  thy  feet 
E'er  tread  on  Tuscan  soil,  thou  save  my  fame 
Amongst  my  kindred.      Them  shalt  thou  behold 
With  that  vain  multitude,    who  set  their  hope 
On  Telamone's  haven ;    there  to  fail 
Confounded,  more  than  when  the  fancied  stream 
They  sought,  of  Dian  call'd  :    but  they,  who  lead 
Their  navies,  more  than  ruin'd  hopes  shall  mourn." 


CANTO      XIV. 


ARGUMENT. 


Our  Poet  on  this  second  cornice  finds  also  the  souls  of  Guido  del  Ducaof  Brettinoro,  and  Rinieri  da  Calboliof  Romagna; 
the  latter  of  whom,  hearing  that  he  comes  from  the  banks  of  the  Arno,  inveighs  against  the  degeneracy  of  all  those 
who  dwell  in  the  cities  visited  by  that  stream  ;  and  the  former,  in  like  manner,  against  the  inhabitants  of  Romagna. 
On  leaving  these,  our  Poets  hear  voices  recording  noted  instances  of  envy. 

"  O  AY,    who  is  he  around  our  mountain  winds, 
*^^     Or  ever  death  has  pruned  his  wings  for  flight; 
That  opes  his  eyes,  and  covers  them  at  will?" 

"I  know  not  who  he  is,  but  know  thus  much; 
He  comes  not  singly.      Do  thou  ask  of  him, 
For  thou  art  nearer  to  him  ;    and  take  heed, 
Accost  him    gently,  so  that  he  may  speak." 

Thus  on  the  right  two  spirits,  bending  each 
Toward  the  other,  talk'd  of  me ;    then  both 
Addressing  me,  their  faces  backward  Ican'd, 
And  thus  the  one    began  :    "  O  soul,  who  yet 
Pent  in  the  body,  tcndest  towards  the  sky  I 
For  charity,  we  pray  thee,  comfort  us ; 
Recounting  whence  thou  comest,  and  who  thou  art : 
For  thou  dost  make  us,  at  the  favour  shown  thee. 
Marvel,  as  at  a  thing  that  ne'er  hath  been." 

"There  stretches  through  the  midst  of  Tuscany,* 
I  straight  began,  "a  brooklet,    whose  well-head 
Springs  up  in  Falterona;   with  his  race 
Not  satisfied,  when  he  some  hundred  miles 
Hath  measured.      From  his  banks  bring  I  this  frame. 


Mi^mii^ 


E'en  thus  the  bhiid  and  poor, 
Near  tlie  confessionals,  to  crave  an  ahns, 
Stand,  each  his  head  upon  his  fellow's  sunk. 

CantffX///.,/in(sS'^ 


"  Who  then,  amongst  us  here  aloft, 
Hath  brought  thee,  if  thou  weenest  to  return  ?  " 

Canio  XIII.,  lines  I2(),  13O. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XIV. 

To  tell  you  who  I  am  were  words  mis-spent : 
For  yet  my  name  scarce  sounds  on  rumour's  lip.** 

"  If  well  I  do  incorporate  with  my  thought 
The  meaning  of  thy  speech,"  said  he,  who  first 
Address'd  me,  "  thou  dost  speak  of  Arno's  wave." 

To  whom  the  other :     "  Why  hath  he  conceal'd 
The  title  of  that  river,  as  a  man 
Doth  of  some  horrible  thing?"      The  spirit,  who 
Thereof  was  question'd,  did  acquit  him  thus: 
"  I  know  not  :    but  'tis  fitting  well  the  name 
Should  perish  of  that  vale;    for  from  the  source, 
Where  teems  so  plenteously  the  Alpine  steep 
Maim'd  of  Pelorus,    (that  doth  scarcely  pass 
Beyond  that  limit,)     even  to  the  point 
Where  unto  ocean  is  restored  what  heaven 
Drains  from  the  exhaustless  store  for  all  earth's  streams. 
Throughout  the  space  is  virtue  worried  down, 
As  't  were  a  snake,  by  all,  for  mortal  foe ; 
Or  through  disastrous  influence  on  the  place, 
Or  else  distortion  of  misguided  wills 
That  custom  goads  to  evil  :    whence  in  those, 
The  dwellers  in  that  miserable  vale, 
Nature  is  so  transform'd,  it  seems  as  they 
Had  shared  of  Circe's  feeding.      'Midst  brute  swine, 
Worthier  of  acorns  than  of  other  food 
Created  for  man's  use,  he  shapeth  first 
His  obscure  way;    then,  sloping  onward,  finds 
Curs,    snarlers  more  in  spite  than  power,  from  whom 
He  turns  with  scorn  aside:    still  journeying  down, 
By  how  much  more  the  curst  and  luckless  foss 
Swells  out  to  largeness,  e'en  so  much  it  finds 
Dogs  turning  into  wolves.       Descending  still 
Through  yet  more  hollow  eddies,  next  he  meets 
A  race  of  foxes,    so  replete  with  craft, 
They  do  not  fear  that  skill  can  master  it. 
Nor  will  I  cease  because  my  words  are  heard 


62    ■  1III-:    VISION.  58-93 

By  other  cars  than  thine.      It  shall   bo"  well 

Tor  this  man,    if  he  keep  in  memory 

WMial  from   no  crriny^  spirit  I   rc\eal. 

Lo  I    I   behold  thy  grandson,    that  becomes 

A  hunter  of  those  wolves,  upon  the  shore 

Of  the  fierce  stream;    and  cows  them  all  with  dread- 

Tlieir  ne>li,  )et  living,  sets  he  up  to  sale. 

Then,   like  an  aged  beast,  to  slaughter  dooms. 

Many  of  life  he  reaves,  himself  of  worth 

And  goodly  estimation.      Smear'd  with  gore, 

Mark  how  he  issues  from  the  rueful  wood  ; 

Leaving  such   havoc,  that  in  thousand  years 

It  spreads  not  to  prime  lustihood  again." 

As  one,  who  tidings  hears  of  woe  to  come, 
Changes  his  looks  perturb'd,  from  whate'er  part 
The  peril  grasp  him;    so  beheld   I  cliange 
That  spirit,  who  had  turn'd  to  listen  ;    struck 
With  sadness,  soon  as  he  had  caught  the  word. 

His  visage,  and  the  other's  speech,  did  raise 
Desire  in  me  to  know  the  names  of  both; 
Whereof,  with  meek  entreaty,   I   inquired. 

The  shade,  who  late  address'd  me,  thus  resumed: 
"Thy  wish   imports,  that  I  vouchsafe  to  do 
For  thy  sake  what  thou  wilt  not  do     for  mine. 
But,  since  God's  will  is  that  so  largely  shine 
His  grace  in  thee,  I  will  be  liberal  too. 
Guido  of  Duca  know  then  that  I  am. 
Envy  so  parch'd  my  blood,  that  had   I  seen 
A   fellow-man  made  joyous,  thou  hadst  mark'd 
A   livid   paleness  overspread  my  check. 
Such  harvest  reap  I  of  the  seed   I  sow'd. 
O  man  I    why  place     thy  heart  where  there  doth  need 
Exclusion  of  participants  in  good  ? 
This  is  Rinieri's  spirit ;    this,  the  boast 
And  honour  of  the  house  of  Calboli ; 
Where  of  his  worth  no  heritage  remains. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XIV.  63 

Nor  his  the  only  blood,  that  hath  been  stript 

(Twixt  Po,  the  mount,  the  Reno,  and  the  shore  ) 

Of  all  that  truth  or  fancy    asks  for  bliss  : 

But,  in  those  limits,  such  a  growth  has  sprung 

Of  rank  and  venom'd  roots,  as  long  would  mock 

Slow  culture's  toil.      Where  is  good  Lizio?     where 

Manardi,  Traversaro,  and  Carpigna  ? 

O  bastard  slips  of  old  Romagna's  line  I 

When  in  Bologna  the  low  artisan. 

And  in  Faenza  yon  Bernardin    sprouts, 

A  gentle  cyon  from  ignoble  stem. 

Wonder  not,  Tuscan,  if  thou  see  me  weep, 

When  I  recall  to  mind  those  once  loved  names, 

Guido  of  Prata,    and  of  Azzo  him 

That  dwelt  with  us  ;     Tignoso     and  his  troop, 

With  Traversaro's  house  and  Anastagio's 

(Each  race  disherited)  ;   and  beside  these, 

The  ladies      and  the  knights,  the  toils  and  ease, 

That  witch'd  us  into  love  and  courtesy ; 

Where  now  such  malice  reigns  in  recreant  hearts. 

O  Brettinorol     wherefore  tarriest  still. 

Since  forth  of  thee  thy  family  hath  gone. 

And  many,  hating  evil,  join'd  their  steps? 

Well  doeth  he,  that  bids  his  lineage  cease, 

Bagnacavallo ;     Castracaro  ill. 

And  Conio  worse,    who  care  to  propagate 

A  race  of  Counties    from  such  blood  as  theirs. 

Well  shall  ye  also  do,  Pagani,    then 

When  from  amongst  you  hies  your  demon  child ; 

Not  so,  howe'er,    that  thenceforth  there  remain 

True  proof  of  what  ye  were.      O  Hugolin, 

Thou  sprung  of  Fantolini's  line!   thy  name 

Is  safe ;   since  none  is  look'd  for  after  thee 

To  cloud  its  lustre,  warping  from  thy  stock. 

But,  Tuscan  1   go  thy  ways  ;    for  now  I  take 

Far  more  delight  in  weeping,  than  in  words. 


64  THE   VISION. 

Such     pity  for  your  sakes  hath  wrung  my  heart." 

We  knew  those  gentle  spirits,  at  parting,  heard 
Our  steps.      Their  silence  therefore,  of  our  way, 
Assured  us.      Soon  as  we  had  quitted  them. 
Advancing  onward,  lo  I   a  voice,  that  seem'd 
Like  volley'd  lightning,  when  it  rives  the  air, 
Met  us,  and  shouted,  "  Whosoever  finds 
Will  slay  me;"     then  fled  from  us,  as  the  bolt 
Lanced  sudden  from  a  downward-rushing  cloud. 
When  it  had  given  short  truce  unto  our  hearing, 
Behold  the  other  with  a  crash  as  loud 
As  the  quick-following  thunder  :    "  Mark  in  me 
Aglauros,    turn'd  to  rock."      I,  at  the  sound 
Retreating,  drew  more  closely  to  my  guide. 

Now  in  mute  stillness  rested  all  the  air; 
And  thus  he  spake:    "There  was  the  galling  bit, 
Which    should  keep  man  within  his  boundary. 
But  your  old  enemy  so  baits  the  hook. 
He  drags  you  eager  to  him.      Hence  nor  curb 
Avails  you,  nor  reclaiming  call.      Heaven  calls, 
And,  round  about  you  wheeling,  courts  your  gaze 
With  everlasting  beauties.     Yet  your  eye 
Turns  with  fond  doting  still  upon  the  earth. 
Therefore  He  smites  you  who  discerneth  all." 


CANTO     XV. 


ARGUMENT. 
Ml  angel   invites  them  to  ascend   the  next  steep.      On  their  way  Dante  suggests  certain  doubts,  which  »re  resolved 
by  Virgil ;    and,  when  they  reach  the  third  cornice,  where  the  sin  of  anger  is  purged,  our  Poet,  in  a  kind  of 
dream,  beholds  remarkable  instances  of  patience  ;   and  soon  after  they  are  enveloped  in  a  dense  fog. 

A  S  much    as  'twixt  the  third  hour's  close  and  dawn, 
•*^-     Appeareth  of  heaven's  sphere,  that  ever  whirls 
As  restless  as  an  infant  in  his  play; 
So  much  appear'd  remaining  to  the  sun 
Of  his  slope  journey  towards  the  western  goal. 

Evening  was  there,  and  here  the  noon  of  night ; 
And  full  upon  our  forehead  smote  the  beams. 
For  round  the  mountain,  circling,  so  our  path 
Had  led  us,  that  toward  the  sun-set  now 
Direct  we  journey 'd  ;    when  I  felt  a  weight 
Of  more  exceeding  splendour  than  before, 
Press  on  my  front.      The  cause  unknown,  amaze 
Possess'd  me  I    and  both  hands    against  my  brows 
Lifting,  I  interposed  them,  as  a  screen, 
That  of  its  gorgeous  superflux  of  light 
Clips  the  diminish'd  orb.      As  when  the  ray, 
Striking  on  water  or  the  surface  clear 
Of  mirror,  leaps  unto  the  opposite  part, 
Ajscending  at  a  glance,    e'en  as  it  fell, 
And  as  much    differs  from  the  stone,  that  falls 


THE    VISION. 

Through  equal  space  (so  practic  skill  hath  shown); 
Thus,  with  refracted  li;-;ht,  before  me  seem'd 
The  ground   there  smitten  ;    whence,  in  sudden   haste, 
My  sight  recoil'd.      "  What  is  this,  sire  beloved  I 
'Gainst  which  I  strive  to  shield  the  sight  in  vain?" 
Cried  I,  "and  which  toward  us  moving  s'eenis?" 

'•  Marvel  not,  if  the  family  of  heaven," 
He  answer'd,  "yet  with  dazzling  radiance  dim 
Thy  sense.      It  is  a  messenger  who  comes, 
Inviting  man's  ascent.      Such  sights  ere  long, 
Not  grievous,  shall  impart  to  thee  delight. 
As  thy  perception  is  by  nature  wrought 
Up  to  their  pitch."     The  blessed  angel,  soon 
As  we  had  reach'd  him,  hail'd  us  with  glad  voice: 
"  Here  enter  on  a  ladder  far  less  steep 
Than  ye  have  yet  encounter'd."     We  forthwith 
Ascending,  heard  behind  us  chanted  sweet, 
"  Blessed  the  merciful,"    and  "  Happy  thou, 
That  conquer'st."      Lonely  each,  my  guide  and  1, 
Pursued  our  upward  way ;    and  as  we  went, 
Some  profit  from  his  words  I   hoped  to  win. 
And  thus  of  him  inquiring,  framed  my  speech  : 
"  What  meant   Romagna's  spirit,    when  he  spake 
Of  bliss  exclusive,  with  no  partner  shared  ?" 

He  straight  replied :    "  No  wonder,  since  he  knows 
What  sorrow  waits  on  his  own  worst  defect, 
If  he  chide  others,  that  they  less  may  mourn. 
Because  ye  point  your  wishes  at  a  mark, 
Where,  by  communion  of  possessors,  part 
Is  lessen'd,  envy  bloweth  up  men's  sighs. 
No  fear  of  that  might  touch  ye,  if  the  love 
Of  higher  sphere  exalted  your  desire. 
For  there,    by  how  much  more  they  call  it  ours. 
So  much  propriety  of  each  in  good 
Increases  more,  and  heighten'd  charity 
Wraps  that  fair  cloister  in  a  brighter  flame." 

"  Now  lack  I  satisfaction  more,"  said  I, 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XV.  07 

"  Than  if  thou  hadst  been  silent  at  the  first ; 

And  doubt  more  gathers  on  my  labouring  thought. 

How  can  it  chance,  that  good  distributed, 

The  many,  that  possess  it,   makes  more  rich, 

Than  if  't  were  shared  by  few?"      lie  answering  thus: 

"Thy  mind,  reverting  still  to  things  of  earth, 

Strikes  darkness  from  true  light.      The  highest  good 

Unlimited,   ineffable,  doth  so  speed 

To  love,  as  beam  to  lucid  body  darts, 

Giving  as  much  of  ardour  as  it  finds. 

The  sempiternal  effluence  streams  abroad, 

Spreading,  wherever  charity  extends. 

So  that  the  more  aspirants  to  that  bliss 

Are  multiplied,  more  good  is  there  to  love, 

And  more  is  loved;   as  mirrors,  that  reflect, 

Each  unto  other,  propagated  light. 

If  these  my  words  avail  not  to  allay 

Thy  thirsting,   Beatrice  thou  shalt  see. 

Who  of  this  want,  and  of  all  else  thou  hast. 

Shall  rid  thee  to  the  full.      Provide  but  thou, 

That  from  thy  temples  may  be  soon  erased, 

E'en  as  the  two  already,  those  five  scars. 

That,  when  they  pain  thee  worst,  then  kindliest  heal," 

"Thou,"  i  had  said,  "  content'st  me;"   when  I  saw 
The  other  round  was  gain'd,  and  wondering  eyes 
Did  keep  me  mute.      There  suddenly  I  seem'd 
By  an  ecstatic  vision  wrapt  away ; 
And  in  a  temple  saw,  methought,  a  crowd 
Of  many  persons  ;    and  at  the  entrance  stood 
A  dame,    whose  sweet  demeanour  did  express 
A  mother's  love,  who  said,  "  Child !    why  hast  thou 
Dealt  with  us  thus?      Behold  thy  sire  and   I 
Sorrowing  have  sought  thee;"  and  so  held  her  peace; 
And  straight  the  vision  fled.      A  female  next 
Appear'd  before  me,  down  whose  visage  coursed 
Those  waters,  that  grief  forces  out  from  one 


68  THE  VISION. 

By  deep  resentment  stung,  who  seem'd  to  say: 

•'  If  thou,  Pisistratus,  be  lord  indeed 

Over  this  city,    named  with  such  debate 

Of  adverse  gods,  and  whence  each  science  sparkles, 

Avenge  thee  of  those  arms,  whose  bold  embrace 

Hath  clasp'd  our  daughter;"   and  to  her,  meseem'd, 

Benign  and  meek,  with  visage  undisturb'd, 

Her  sovran  spake :    "  How  shall  we  those  requite 

Who  wish  us  evil,  if  we  thus  condemn 

The  man  that  loves  us?"      After  that  I  saw 

A  multitude,  in  fury  burning,  slay 

With  stones  a  stripling  youth,    and  shout  amain 

"Destroy,  destroy;"   and  him  I  saw,  who  bow'd 

Heavy  with  death  unto  the  ground,  yet  made 

His  eyes,  unfolded  upward,  gates  to  heaven, 

Praying  forgiveness  of  the  Almighty  Sire, 

Amidst  that  cruel  con tl let,  on  his  foes. 

With  looks  that  win  compassion  to  their  aim. 

Soon  as  my  spirit,  from  her  airy  flight 
Returning,  sought  again  the  things  whose  truth 
Depends  not  on  her  shaping,  I  observed 
She  had  not  roved  to  falsehood  in  her  dreams. 

Meanwhile  the  leader,  who  might  see  I   moved 
As  one  who  struggles  to  shake  off  his  sleep, 
Exclaim'd :    "  What  ails  thee,  that  thou  canst  not  hold 
Thy  footing  firm ;  but  more  than  half  a  league 
Hast  travel'd  with  closed  eyes  and  tottering  gait, 
Like  to  a  man  by  wine  or  sleep  o'ercharged  ?" 

"  Beloved  father  I  so  thou  deign,"  said  I, 
"To  listen,  I  will  tell  thee  what  appear'd 
Before  me,  when  so  fail'd  my  sinking  steps." 

He  thus :   "  Not  if  thy  countenance  were  mask'd 
With  hundred  vizards,  could  a  thought  of  thine. 
How  small  soe'er,  elude  me.      What  thou  saw'st 
Was  shown,  that  freely  thou  mightst  ope  thy  heart 
To  the  waters  of  peace,  that  flow  diffused 


m 


After  that  1  saw 
A  multitude,  in  fury  burning,  slay 
With  stones  a  stripling  youth,  and  shout  amain 
"  Destroy,  destroy." 

Oiii/o  A'K.,  /I'aes  103- 


••  Now  wlio  ait  tlioii,  tliat  through  our  smoke  dost  cleave, 
And  speak'st  of  us,  as  thou  tliyself  e'en  yet 
Dividedst  time  by  calends  ?  " 


Canto  XVI.,  lines  23-25. 


PURiiATOKY.— CAMlC)    X\'.  69 

From  their  eternal  fountain.     I  not  ask'd, 
What  ails  thee?   for  such  cause  as  he  doth,  who 
Looks  only  with  that  eye,  which  sees  no  more, 
When  spiritless  the  body  lies;    but  ask'd. 
To  give  fresh  vigour  to  thy  foot.      Such  goads, 
The  slow  and   loitering  need  ;    that  they  be  found 
Not  wanting,  when  their  hour  of  watch   returns." 
So  on  we  journey 'd,  through  the  evening  sky 
Gazing  intent,   far  onward  as  our  eyes, 
With   level  view,  could  stretch  against  the  bright 
Vespertine  ray  :    and   lo !    by  slow  degrees 
Gathering,  a  fog  made  towards  us,  dark  as  night 
There  v/as  no  room   for  'scaping  ;    and  that  mist 
Bereft  us,  both  of  si^ht  and  the  pure  air. 


P§ 


CANTO      XVI. 


ARGUMENT. 


Kr  chey  proceed  through  the  mist,  they  hear  the  voices  of  spirits  praying.  Marco  LombarHo,  one  of  these,  points 
out  lo  Uante  the  error  of  such  as  impute  our  actions  to  necessity  ;  explains  to  him  that  man  ii  endued  with 
free  will  ;  and  shows  that  much  of  human  depravity  results  from  the  undue  mixture  of  spiritual  and  temporal 
tathority  in  rulers. 

T  T  ELL'S  dunnest  gloom,  or  night  unlustrous,  dark, 
■'■"'■      Of  every  planet  'reft,  and  pall'd  in  clouds, 
Did  never  spread  before  the  sight  a  veil 
In  thickness  like  that  fog,  ^nor  to  the  sense 
So  palpable  and  gross.      Entering  its  shade, 
Mine  eye  endured  not  with  unclosed  lids ; 
Which  marking,  near  me  drew  the  faithful  guide, 
Offering  me  his  shoulder  for  a  stay. 

As  the  blind  man  behind  his  leader  walks, 
Lest  he  should  err,  or  stumble  unawares 
On  what  might  harm  him  or  perhaps  destroy ; 
.    I  journey'd  through  that  bitter  air  and  foul, 
Still   listening  to  my  escort's  warning  voice, 
"Look  that  from  me  thou  part  not."      Strai-lit  I  heard 
Voices,  and  each  one  seem'd  to  pray  for  peace, 
And  for  compassion,  to  the  Lamb  of  God 
That  taketh  sins  away.      Their  prelude  still 
Was  "Agnus  Dei;"  and  through  all  the  choir. 
One  voice,  one  measure  ran,  that  perfect  seciii'd 
The  concord  of  their  song.      "  Are  these  I   hear 
Spirits,  O  master?"    I  cxclaini'd  ;    and  he, 
"Thou  aim'st  aright:    these  loose  the  bonds  of  wrath." 

"  Now  who  art  thou,  that  through  our  smoke  dost  cleave, 
And  speak'st  of  us,  as  thou  thyself  e'en  yet 
Dividedst  time  by  calends  ?"        So  one  voice 
Bespake  me;    whence  my  master  said,   "Reply; 
And  ask,  if  upward  hence  the  passage  lead." 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XVI. 

'•  O  being  I  who  doth  make  thee  pure,  to  stand 
Beautiful  once  more  in  thy  Maker's  sight; 
Along  with  me  :  and  thou  shalt  hear  and  wonder." 
Thus  I,  whereto  the  spirit  answering  spake: 
"  Long  as  'tis  lawful  for  me,  shall  my  steps 
Follow  on  thine  ;    and   since  the  cloudy  smoke 
Forbids  the  seeing,  hearing  in  its  stead 
Shall  keep  us  join'd."     I  then  forthwith  began : 
"Yet  in  my  mortal  swathing,   I  ascend 
To  higher  regions;    and  am  hither  come 
Thorough  the  fearful  agony  of  hell. 
And,  if  so  largely  God   hath  doled  his  grace. 
That,  clean  beside  all  modern  precedent. 
He  wills  me  to  behold  his  kingly  state; 
From  me  conceal  not  who  thou  wast,  ere  death 
Had  loosed  thee  ;    but  instruct  me :    and   instruct 
If  rightly  to  the  pass  I  tend  ;    thy  words 
The  way  directing,  as  a  safe  escort." 

"I  was  of  Lombardy,  and   Marco  call'd: 
Not  inexperienced  of  the  world,  that  worth 
I  still  affected,  from  which  all  have  turn'd 
The  nerveless  bow  aside.      Thy  course  tends  right 
Unto  the  summit:"  and,  replying  thus, 
He  added,  "  I  beseech  thee  pray  for  me. 
When  thou  shalt  come  aloft."     And  I  to  him : 
"Accept  my  faith  for  pledge  I  will   perform 
What  thou  requirest.      Yet  one  doubt  remains, 
That  wrings  me  sorely,  if  I  solve  it  not. 
Singly  before  it  urged  me,  doubled  now 
By  thine  opinion,  when  I  couple  that 
With  one  elsewhere    declared  ;    each  strengthening  other. 
The  world  indeed  is  even  so  forlorn 
Of  all  good,  as  thou  speak'st  it,  and  so  swarms 
With  every  evil.      Yet,  beseech  thee,  point 
The  cause  out  to  me,  that  myself  may  see, 


72  THE   VISION.  63-98. 

And  unto  others  show  it :    for  in  heaven 
One  places  it,  and  one  on  earth  below." 

Then  heaving  forth  a  deep  and  aiulible  siq^h, 
"Brother!"   he  thus  began,  "the  world  is  blind; 
And  thou  in  truth  comest  from  it.      Ye,  who  live. 
Do  so  each  cause  refer  to  heaven  above, 
E'en  as  its  motion,  of  necessity. 
Drew  with  it  all  that  moves.      If  this  were  so, 
Free  choice  in  you  were  none ;    nor  justice  would 
There  should  be  joy  for  virtue,  woe  for  ill. 
Your  movements  have  their  primal  bent  from  heaven; 
Not  all :   yet  said   I  all ;    what  then  ensues  ? 
Light  have  ye  still  to  follow  evil  or  good, 
And  of  the  will  free  power,  which,  if  it  stand 
Firm  and  unwearied  in   Heaven's  first  essay, 
Conquers  at  last,  so  it  be  cherish'd  well, 
Triumphant  over  all.      To  mightier  force, 
To  better  nature  subject,  ye  abide 
Free,  not  constrain'd  by  that  which  forms  in  you 
The  reasoning  mind  uninfluenced  of  the  stars. 
If  then  the  present  race  of  mankind  err. 
Seek  in  yourselves  the  cause,  and  find  it  there. 
Herein  thou  shalt  confess  me  no  false  spy. 

"  Forth  from  his  plastic  hand,  who  charm'd  beholds 
Her  image  ere  she  yet  exist,  the  soul 
Comes  like  a  babe,  that  wantons  sportively. 
Weeping  and  laughing  in  its  wayward  moods ; 
As  artless,  and  as  ignorant  of  aught, 
Save  that  her  Maker  being  one  wlio  dwells 
With  gladness  ever,  willingly  she  turns 
To  whate'er  yields  her  joy.      Of  some  slight  good 
The  flavour  soon  she  tastes;  and,  snared  by  that, 
With  fondness  she  pursues  it ;  if  no  guide 
Recal,  no  rein  direct  her  wandering  course. 
Hence  it  behoved,  the  law  should  be  a  curb ; 
A  sovereign  hence  behoved,  whose  piercing  view 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XVI.  y:^ 

Might  mark  at  least  the  fortress    and  main  tower 

Of  the  true  city.      Laws  indeed  there  are  : 

But  who  is  he  observes  them  ?      None ;    not  he, 

Who  goes  before,  the  shepherd  of  the  flock, 

Who    chews  the  cud  but  doth  not  cleave  the  hoof. 

Therefore  the  multitude,  who  see  their  guide 

Strike  at  the  very  good  they  covet  most. 

Feed  there  and  look  no  further.      Thus  the  cause 

Is  not  corrupted  nature  in  yourselves. 

But  ill-conducting,  that  hath  turn'd  the  world 

To  evil.      Rome,  that  turn'd  it  unto  good. 

Was  wont  to  boast  two  suns,    whose  several  beams 

Cast  light  on  either  way,  the  world's  and  God's. 

One  since  hath  quench 'd  the  other;   and  the  sword 

Is  grafted  on  the  crook  ;    and,  so  conjoin'd. 

Each  must  perforce  decline  to  worse,  unawed 

By  fear  of  other.      If  thou  doubt  me,  mark 

The  blade :    each  herb  is  judged  of  by  its  seed. 

That  land,    through  which  Adice  and  the  Po 

Their  waters  roll,  was  once  the  residence 

Of  courtesy  and  valour,  ere  the  day 

That  frown'd  on  Frederick ;    now  secure  may  pass 

Those  limits,  whosoe'er  hath  left,  for  shame. 

To  talk  with  good  men,  or  come  near  their  haunts. 

Three  aged  ones  are  still  found  there,  in  whom 

The  old  time    chides  the  new :   these  deem  it  long 

Ere  God  restore  them  to  a  better  world: 

The  good  Gherardo  ;    of  Palazzo  he, 

Conrad  ;     and  Guido  of  Castello,    named 

In  Gallic  phrase  more  fitly  the  plain  Lombard. 

On  this  at  last  conclude.      The  church  of  Rome, 

Mixing  two  governments  that  ill  assort, 

Hath  miss'd  her  footing,  fallen  into  the  mire, 

And  there  herself  and  burden  much  defiled." 

"O  Marco  I"    I  replied,  "thine  arguments 
Convince  me  :    and  the  cause  I  now  discern, 
Why  of  the  heritage  no  portion  came 


THE    VISION.  I36-I49- 

To  Levi's  offspring.      But  resolve  me  this: 
Who  that  Gherardo  is,  that  as  thou  say'st 
Is  left  a  sample  of  the  perish'd  race, 
And  for  rebuke  to  this  untoward  age?" 

'•  Either  thy  words,"  said  he,  "  deceive,  or  else 
Are  meant  to  try  me;    that  thou,  speaking  Tuscan, 
Appcar'st  not  to  have  heard  of  good  Gherardo ; 
The  sole  addition  that,  by  which   I   know  him  ; 
Unless  I  borrow'd  from  his  daughter  Gaia 
Another  name  to  grace  him.      God  be  with  you. 
I  bear  you  company  no  more.      Behold 
The  dawn  with  white  ray  glimmering  through  the  mist 
I  must  away — the  angel  comes — ere  he 
Appear."     He  said,  and  would  not  hear  me  more. 


CANTO    XVII. 


ARGUMENT. 

:  Poet  issues  from  that  thick  vapour ;  and  soon  after  his  fancy  represents  to  him  in  lively  portraiture  some  noted 
examples  of  anger.  This  imagination  is  dissipated  by  the  appearance  of  an  angel,  who  marshals  them  onward 
to  the  fourth  cornice,  on  which  the  sin  of  gloominess  or  indifference  is  purged  ;  and  here  Virgil  shows  him  that 
this  vice  proceeds  from  a  defect  of  love,  and  that  all  love  can  be  only  of  two  sorts,  either  natural,  or  of  the 
»oul ;  of  which  sorts  the  former  is  always  right,  but  the  latter  may  eiT  either  in  respect  of  object  or  of  degree. 

/^~^ALL  to  remembrance,  reader,  if  thou  e'er 
^-^     Hast  on  an  Alpine  height    been  ta'en  by  cloud, 
Through  which  thou  saw'st  no  better  than  the  mole 
Doth  through  opacous  membrane;    then,  whene'er 
The  watery  vapours  dense  began  to  melt 
Into  thin  air,  how  faintly  the  sun's  sphere 
Seem'd  wading  through  them  :    so  thy  nimble  thought 
May  image,  how  at  first  I  rebeheld 
The  sun,  that  bedward  now  his  couch  o'erhung. 

Thus,  with  my  leader's  feet  still  equaling  pace, 
From  forth  that  cloud  I  came,  when  now  expired 
The  parting  beams  from  off  the  nether  shores. 

O  quick  and  forgetive  power!   that  sometimes  dost 
So  rob  us  of  ourselves,  we  take  no  mark 
Though  round  about  us  thousand  trumpets  clang ; 
What  moves  thee,  if  the  senses  stir  not?      Light 
Moves  thee  from  heaven,  spontaneous,  self-inform'd; 
Or,  likelier,  gliding  down  with  swift  illapse 
By  will  divine.      Portray 'd  before  me  came 
The  traces  of  her  dire  impiety, 

Whose  form  was  changed  into  the  bird,  that  most 
Delights  Itself  in  song  :     and  here  my  mind 
Was  inwardly  so  wrapt,  it  gave  no  place 
To  aught  that  ask'd  admittance  from  without 
Next  shower'd  into  my  fantasy  a  shape 
As  of  one  crucified,    whose  visage  spake 


7b  THE   VISION.  37-63. 

Fell  rancour,  malice  deep,  wherein  he  died ; 
And  round  him  Ahasuerus  the  great  king; 
Esther  his  bride  ;   and  Mordecai  the  just, 
Blameless  in  word  and  deed.      As  of  itself 
That  unsubstantial  coinage  of  the  brain 
Burst,  like  a  bubble,    when  the  water  fails 
That  fed  it ;    in  my  vision  straight  uprose 
A  damsel    weeping  loud,  and  cried,  "O  queen  1 

0  mother!    wherefore  has  intemperate  ire 
Driven  thee  to  loathe  thy  being  ?      Not  to  lose 
Lavinia,  desperate  thou  hast  slain  thyself. 

Now  hast  thou  lost  me.      I  am  she,  whose  tears 
Mourn,  ere  I  fall,  a  mother's  timeless  end." 
E'en  as  a  sleep  breaks  oflf,  if  suddenly 
New  radiance  strike  upon  the  closed  lids, 
The  broken  slumber  quivering  ere  it  dies ; 
Thus,  from  before  me,  sunk  that  imagery, 
Vanishing,  soon  as  on  my  face  there  struck 
The  light,  outshining  far  our  earthly  beam. 
As  round  I  turn'd  me  to  survey  what  place 

1  had  arrived  at,  "  Here  ye  mount :"  exclaim'd 
A  voice,  that  other  purpose  left  me  none 
Save  will  so  eager  to  behold  who  spake, 

I  could  not  chuse  but  gaze.     As  'fore  the  sun, 

That  weighs  our  vision  down,  and  veils  his  form 

In  light  transcendent,  thus  my  virtue  fail'd 

Unequal.      "  This  is  Spirit  from  above, 

Who  marshals  us  our  upward  way,  unsought ; 

And  in  his  own  light  shrouds  him.      As  a  man 

Doth  for  himself,  so  now  is  done  for  us. 

For  whoso  waits  imploring,  yet  sees  need 

Of  his  prompt  aidance,  sets  himself  prepared 

For  blunt  denial,  ere  the  suit  be  made. 

Refuse  we  not  to  lend  a  ready  foot 

At  such  inviting  :    haste  we  to  ascend, 

Before  it  darken  :    for  we  may  not  then, 

Till  morn  again  return."      So  spake  my  guide; 


"  Long  as  'tis  lawful  for  me,  shall  my  steps 
Follow  on  thine  ;  and  since  the  cloudy  smoke 
Forbiils  the  seeing,  hearing  in  its  stead 
Shall  keep  us  join'd." 

Canto  XVI..  lines  32-35. 


^i 


But  not  long 
Slumber'd  ;   for  suddenly  a  multituiic, 
The  steep  already  turning  from  hcliiiul, 
Rush'd  on. 


Guilo  Xriir..  linfsHi 


I'URGAIURV. -CANTO    XVII. 

And  to  one  ladder  both  address'd  our  steps ; 

And  the  first  stair  approaching,  I  perceived 

Near  me  as  't  were  the  waving  of  a  wing, 

That  fann'd  my  face,  and  whisper'd  :  "  Blessed  ttiey, 

The  peacemakers  :     they  know  not  evil  wrath." 

Now  to  such  height  above  our  heads  were  raised 
The  last  beams,  follow'd  close  by  hooded   night, 
That  many  a  star  on  all  sides  through  the  gloom 
Shone  out.      "  Why  partest  from  me,  O  my  strength  ?' 
So  with  myself  I  communed  ;    for  I  felt 
My  o'ertoil'd  sinews  slacken.      We  had  reach'd 
The  summit,  and  were  fix'd  like  to  a  bark 
Arrived  at  land.      And  waiting  a  short  space, 
If  aught  should  meet  mine  ear  in  that  new  round, 
Then  to  my  guide  I  turn'd,  and  said:    "Loved  sire  I 
Declare  what  guilt  is  on  this  circle  purged. 
If  our  feet  rest,  no  need  thy  speech  should  pause." 

He  thus  to  me :    "  The  love    of  good,  whate'er 
Wanted  of  just  proportion,  here  fulfils. 
Here  plies  afresh  the  oar,  that  loiter'd  ill. 
But  that  thou  mayst  yet  clearlier  understand. 
Give  ear  unto  my  words ;   and  thou  shalt  cull 
Some  fruit  may  please  thee  well,  from  this  delay. 

"  Creator,  nor  created  being,  e'er. 
My  son,"  he  thus  began,  "  was  without  love, 
Or  natural,    or  the  free  spirit's  growth. 
Thou  hast  not  that  to  learn.      The  natural  still 
Is  without  error:    but  the  other  swerves, 
If  on  ill  object  bent,  or  through  excess 
Of  vigour,  or  defect.      While  e'er  it  seeks 
The  primal  blessings,    or  with  measure  due 
The  inferior,    no  delight,  that  flows  from  it, 
Partakes  of  ill.      But  let  it  warp  to  evil, 
Or  with  more  ardour  than  behoves,  or  less, 
Pursue  the  good ;   the  thing  created  then 
Works  'gainst  its  Maker.      Hence  thou  must  infer, 
That  love  is  germin  of  each  virtue  in  ye, 


THE   VISION. 

And  of  each  act  no  less,  that  merits  pain. 
Now    since  it  may  not  be,  but  love  intend 
The  welfare  mainly  of  the  thing  it  loves, 
All  from  self-hatred  are  secure  ;   and  since 
No  being  can  be  thought  to  exist  apart, 
And  independent  of  the  first,  a  bar 
Of  equal  force  restrains  from  hating  that. 

"Grant  the  distinction  just;    and  it  remains 
The  evil  must  be  another's,  which  is  loved. 
Three  ways  such  love  is  gender'd  in  your  clay. 
There  is    who  hopes  (his  neighbour's  worth  deprest) 
Pre-eminence  himself;   and  covets  hence, 
For  his  own  greatness,  that  another  fall. 
There  is    who  so  much  fears  the  loss  of  power, 
Fame,  favour,  glory  (should  his  fellow  mount 
Above  him),  and  so  sickens  at  the  thought. 
He  loves  their  opposite :  and  there  is  he. 
Whom  wrong  or  insult  seems  to  gall  and  shame, 
That  he  doth  thirst  for  vengeance ;   and  such  needs 
Must  dote  on  other's  evil.      Here  beneath, 
This  threefold  love  is  mourn'd.      Of  the  other  sort 
Be  now  instructed ;   that  which  follows  good, 
But  with  disorder'd  and  irregular  course. 

"All  indistinctly  apprehend  a  bliss, 
On  which  the  soul  may  rest ;   the  hearts  of  all 
Yearn  after  it;   and  to  that  wished  bourn 
All  therefore  strive  to  tend.      If  ye  behold, 
Or  seek  it,  with  a  love  remiss  and  lax ; 
This  cornice,  after  just  repenting,  lays 
Its  penal  torment  on  ye.      Other  good 
There  is,  where  man  finds  not  his  happiness: 
It  is  not  true  fruition  ;    not  that  blest 
Essence,  of  every  good  the  branch  and  root 
The  love  too  lavishly  bestow'd  on  this, 
Along  three  circles    over  us,  is  mourn'd. 
Account  of  that  division  tripartite 
Expect  not,  fitter  for  thine  own  research.** 


CANTO     XVIII. 


ARGUMENT. 
Vvgn  discourses  further  concerning  the  nature  of  love      Then  a  multitude  of  spirits  rush  by  ;  two  of  whom,  in  ▼*» 

of  the  rest,  record  instances  of  zeal  and  fervent  affection,  and  another,  who  was  abbot  of  San  Zeno  in  Verona, 
declares  himself  to  Virgil  aad  Dante  ;  and  lastly  follow  other  spirits,  shouting  forth  memorable  examples  of  the 
•in  for  which  they  suffer.     The  Poet,  pursuing  his  meditations,  falls  into  a  dreamy  slumber. 

'T^HE  teacher  ended,    and  his  high  discourse 
-*-       Concluding,  earnest  in  my  looks  inquired 
If  I  appear'd  content;    and  I,  whom  still 
Unsated  thirst  to  hear  him  urged,  was  mute, 
Mute  outwardly,  yet  inwardly  I  said  : 
"  Perchance  my  too  much  questioning  offends." 
But  he,  true  father,  mark'd  the  secret  wish 
By  diffidence  restrain'd  ;    and,  speaking,  gave 
Me  boldness  thus  to  speak  :   "  Master  I    my  sight 
Gathers  so  lively  virtue  from  thy  beams, 
That  all,  thy  words  convey,  distinct  is  seen. 
Wherefore  I  pray  thee,  father,  whom  this  heart 
Holds  dearest,  thou  wouldst  deign  by  pioof  t' unfold 
That  love,  from  which,  as  from  their  source,  thou  bring'st 
All  good  deeds  and  their  opposite."     He  then  : 
"To  what  I  now  disclose  be  thy  clear  ken 
Directed  ;   and  thou  plainly  shalt  behold 
How  much  those  blind  have  err'd,  who  make  themselves 
The  guides  of  men.      The  soul,  created  apt 
To  love,  moves  versatile  which  way  soe'er 
Aught  pleasing  prompts  her,  soon  as  she  is  waked 
By  pleasure  into  act.     Of  substance  true 
Your  apprehension    forms  its  counterfeit; 


8o  THE   VISIOX. 

And,  in  you  the  ideal  shape  presenting, 
Attract  the  soul's  regard.      If  she,  thus  drawn, 
Incline  toward  it;  love  is  that  inclining, 
And  a  new  nature  knit  by  pleasure  in  ye. 
Then,  as  the  fire  points  up,  and  mounting  seeks 
His  birth-place  and  his  lasting  seat,  e'en  thus 
Enters  the  captive  soul  into  desire, 
Which  is  a  spiritual  motion,  that  ne'er  rests 
Before  enjoyment  of  the  thing  it  loves. 
Enough  to  show  thee,  how  the  truth  from  those 
Is  hidden,  who  aver  all  love  a  thing 
Praise-worthy  in  itself;   although  perhaps 
Its  matter  seem  still  good.      Yet  if  the  wax 
Be  good,  it  follows  not  the  impression  must." 

"What  love  is,"  I  return'd,  "thy  words,  O  guide! 
And  my  own  docile  mind,  reveal.      Yet  thence 
New  doubts  have  sprung.      For,  from  without,  if  love 
Be  ofifer'd  to  us,  and  the  spirit  knows 
No  other  footing;   tend  she  right  or  wrong, 
Is  no  desert  of  hers."      He  answering  thus: 
"  What  reason  here  discovers,  I  have  power 
To  show  thee :   that  which  lies  beyond,  expect 
From  Beatrice,  faith  not  reason's  task. 
Spirit,    substantial  form,  with  matter  join'd, 
Not  in  confusion  mix'd,  hath  in  itself 
Specific  virtue  of  that  union  born. 
Which  is  not  felt  except  it  work,  nor  proved 
But  through  effect,  as  vegetable  life 
By  the  green  leaf.      From  whence  his  intellect 
Deduced  its  primal  notices  of  things, 
Man  therefore  knows  not,  or  his  appetites 
Their  first  affections ;  such  m  you,  as  zeal 
In  bees  to  gather  honey ;   at  the  first, 
Volition,  meriting  nor  blame  nor  praise. 
But  o'er  each  lower  faculty  supreme. 
That,  as  she  list,  are  summon'd  to  her  bar, 


60—95-  PURGATORY.— CANT(3    XVIII.  8l 

Ye  have  that  virtue    in  you,  whose  just  voice 

Uttereth  counsel,  and  whose  word  should   keep 

The  threshold  of  assent.      Here  is  the  source, 

Whence  cause  of  merit  in  you  is  derived  ; 

E'en  as  the  affections,  good  or  ill,  she  takes, 

Or  severs,    winnow'd  as  the  chaff.      Those  men, 

Who,  reasoning,  went  to  depth  profoundest,  mark'd 

That  innate  freedom  ;   and  were  thence  induced 

To  leave  their  moral  teaching  to  the  world. 

Grant  then,  that  from  necessity  arise 

All  love  that  glows  within  you  ;    to  dismiss 

Or  harbour  it,  the  power  is  in  yourselves. 

Remember,  Beatrice,  in  her  style, 

Denominates  free  choice  by  eminence 

The  noble  virtue ;    if  in  talk  with  thee 

She  touch  upon  that  theme."      The  moon,  well  nigh 

To  midnight  hour  belated,  made  the  stars 

Appear  to  wink  and  fade ;   and  her  broad  disk 

Seem'd  like  a  crag    on  fire,  as  up  the  vault 

That  course  she  journey 'd,  which  the  sun  then  warms; 

When  they  of  Rome  behold  him  at  his  set 

Betwixt  Sardinia  and  the  Corsic  isle. 

And  now  the  weight,  that  hung  upon  my  thought, 

Was  lighten'd  by  the  aid  of  that  clear  spirit, 

Who  raiseth  Andes    above  Mantua's  name. 

I  therefore,  when  my  questions  had  obtain'd 

Solution  plain  and  ample,  stood  as  one 

Musing  in  dreamy  slumber;   but  not  long 

Slumber'd;   for  suddenly  a  multitude. 

The  steep  already  turning  from  behind, 

Rush'd  on.      With  fury  and  like  random  rout. 

As  echoing  on  their  shores  at  midnight  heard 

Ismenus  and  Asopus,    for  his  Thebes 

If  Bacchus'  help  were  needed  ;   so  came  these 

Tumultuous,  curving  each  his  rapid  step, 

By  eagerness  impell'd  of  holy  love. 


82  THE   VISION.  96—130. 

Soon  they  o'ertook  us ;   with  such  swiftness  moved 
The  mighty  crowd.      Two  spirits  at  their  head 
Cried,  weeping,  "  Blessed  Mary    sought  with  haste 
The  hilly  region.      Caesar,    to  subdue 
Ilerda,  darted  in  Marseilles  his  sting, 
And  flew  to  Spain." — "Oh,  tarry  not:   away!" 
The  others  shouted  ;   "  let  not  time  be  lost 
Through  slackness  of  affection.      Hearty  zeal 
To  serve  reanimates  celestial  grace." 

"  O  ye  I    in  whom  intenser  fervency 
Haply  supplies,  where  lukewarm  erst  ye  fail'd, 
Slow  or  neglectful,  to  absolve  your  part 
Of  good  and  virtuous  ;    this  man,  who  yet  lives 
(Credit  my  tale,  though  strange),  desires  to  ascend, 
So  morning  rise  to  light  us.      Therefore  say 
Which  hand  leads  nearest  to  the  rifted  rock." 

So  spake  my  guide ;   to  whom  a  shade  return'd : 
'•  Come  after  us,  and  thou  shalt  find  the  cleft. 
We  may  not  linger  :    such  resistless  will 
Speeds  our  unwearied  course.     Vouchsafe  us  then 
Thy  pardon,  if  our  duty  seem  to  thee 
Discourteous  rudeness.      In  Verona  I 
Was  abbot    of  San  Zeno,  when  the  hand 
Of  Barbarossa  grasp'd  Imperial  sway, 
That  name  ne'er  utter'd  without  tears  in  Milan. 
And  there  is  he,    hath  one  foot  in  his  grave, 
Who  for  that  monastery  ere  long  shall  weep, 
Ruing  his  power  misused :   for  that  his  son, 
Of  body  ill  compact,  and  worse  in  mind, 
And  born  in  evil,  he  hath  set  in  place 
Of  its  true  pastor."      Whether  more  he  spake, 
Or  here  was  mute,  I  know  not :    he  had  sped 
E'en  now  so  far  beyond  us.      Yet  thus  much 
I  heard,  and  in  remembrance  treasured  it. 

He  then,  who  never  fail'd  me  at  my  need. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XVIII.  83 

Cried,  "  Hither  turn.      Lo  I    two  with  sharp  remorse 
Chiding  their  sin."      In  rear  of  all  the  troop 
These  shouted  :    "  First  they  died,    to  whom  the  sea 
Open'd,  or  ever  Jordan  saw  his  heirs : 
And  they,    who  with  y^neas  to  the  end 
Endured  not  suffering,  for  their  portion  chose 
Life  without  glory."      Soon  as  they  had  fled 
Past  reach  of  sight,  new  thought  within  me  rose 
By  others  follow'd  fast,  and  each  unlike 
Its  fellow  :    till  led  on  from  thought  to  thought, 
And  pleasured  with  the  fleeting  train,  mine  eye 
Was  closed,  and  meditation  changed  to  dream. 


CANTO      XIX. 


ARGUM  ENT. 


The  Poet,  after  describing  hi*  dream,  relates  how,  at   the   summoning  of  an  angel,  he  ascends  with  Virgfl 
fifth  cornice,  where  the  sin  of  avarice  is  cleansed,  and  where  he  finds  Pope  Adrian  V. 

IT   was  the  hour,    when  of  diurnal  heat 
No  reliques  chafe  the  cold  beams  of  the  moon, 
O'erpower'd   by  earth,  or  planetary  sway 
Of  Saturn  ;   and  the  geomancer    sees 
His  Greater  Fortune  up  the  east  ascend, 
Where  grey  dawn  checkers  first  the  shadowy  cone; 
When,   'fore  me  in  my  dream,  a  woman's  shape 
There  came,  with  lips  that  stammer'd,  eyes  aslant, 
Distorted  feet,  hands  malm'd,  and  colour  pale. 

I  look'd  upon  her  :    and,  as  sunshine  cheers 
Limbs  numb'd  by  nightly  cold,  e'en  thus  my  look 
Unloosed  her  tongue;    next,  in  brief  space,  her  form 
Decrepit  raised  erect,  and  faded  face 
With  love's  own  hue    illumed.      Recovering  speech, 
She  forthwith,  warbling,  such  a  strain  began, 
That  I,  how  loth  soe'er,  could  scarce  have  held 
Attention  from  the  song.      "  I,"  thus  she  sang, 
"  I  am  the  Syren,  she,  whom  mariners 
On  the  wide  sea  are  wilder'd  when  they  hear  • 
Such  fulness  of  delight  the  listener  feels. 
I,  from  his  course,  Ulysses    by  my  lay 
Enchanted  drew.      Whoe'er  frequents  me  once. 
Parts  seldom  :    so  I  charm  him,  and  his  heart 
Contented  knows  no  void."      Or  ere  her  mouth 
Was  closed,  to  shame  her,  at  my  side  appear'd 


"What  aileth  thee,  that  still  thou  look'st  to  earth  ?' 
Began  my  leader  ;  while  the  angelic  shape 
A  little  over  as  his  station  took. 

Canto  XIX..  lines  51-53. 


"  Up,"  lie  exclaim'ci,  "brother!  upon  thy  feet 
Arise  ;  err  not ;  thy  fellow  servant  I, 
(Thine  and  all  others,)  of  one  Sovran  Power. 

Canto  XIX.,  /i««  131-133. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XIX.  •  85 

A  dame    of  semblance  holy.      With  stern  voice 
She  utter'd  :    "Say,  O  Virgil  I   who  is  this?" 
Which  hearing,  he  approach'd,  with  eyes  still  bent 
Toward  that  goodly  presence  :    the  other  seized  her, 
And,  her  robes  tearing,  open'd  her  before, 
And  show'd  the  belly  to  me,  whence  a  smell, 
Exhaling  loathsome,  waked  me.      Round  I  turn'd 
Mine  eyes  :    and  thus  the  teacher :    "  At  the  lenst 
Three  times  my  voice  hath  call'd  thee.      Rise,  begone. 
Let  us  the  opening  find  where  thou  mayst  pass." 

I  straightway  rose.      Now  day,  pour'd  down  from  high 
Fill'd  all  the  circuits  of  the  sacred  mount ; 
And,  as  we  journey'd,  on  our  shoulder  smote 
The  early  ray.      I   follow'd,  stooping  low 
My  forehead,  as  a  man,  o'ercharged  wit"h  thought, 
Who  bends  him  to  the  likeness  of  an  arch 
That  midway  spans  the  flood  ;    when  thus  I  heard, 
"  Come,  enter  here,"    in  tone  so  soft  and  mild, 
As  never  met  the  ear  on  mortal  strand. 

With  swan-like  wings  dispred  and  pointing  up, 
Who  thus  had  spoken  marshal'd  us  along. 
Where,  each  side  of  the  solid  masonry. 
The  sloping  walls  retired  ;    then  moved  his  plumes, 
And  fanning  us,  affirm'd  that  those,  who  mourn, 
Are  blessed,  for  that  comfort  shall  be  theirs. 

"  What  aileth  thee,  that  still  thou  look'st  to  earth  ?" 
Began  my  leader  ;    while  the  angelic  shape 
A  little  over  us  his  station  took. 

"  New  vision,"  I   replied,  "  hath  raised  in  me 
Surmisings  strange  and  anxious  doubts,  whereon 
My  soul  intent  allows  no  other  thought 
Or  room,  or  entrance." — "  Hast  thou  seen,"  said  he, 
"That  old  enchantress,  her,  whose  wiles  alone 
The  spirits  o'er  us  weep  for.^      Hast  thou  seen 
How  man  may  free  him  of  her  bonds?      Enough. 
Let  thy  heels  spurn  the  earth  ;    and  thy  raised  ken 


86  .  THE   VISION.  62—97. 

Fix  on  the  lure,  which  heaven's  eternal   King 
Whirls  in  the  rolling  spheres."      As  on  his  feet 
The  falcon     first  looks  down,  then  to  the  sky 
Turns,  and  forth  stretches  eager  for  the  food, 
That  wooes  him  thither  ;    so  the  call  I  heard  : 
So  onward,  far  as  the  dividing  rock 
Gave  way,   I  journey'd,  till  the  plain  was  reachV. 

On  the  fifth  circle  when  I  stood  at  large, 
A  race  appear'd  before  me,  on  the  ground 
All  downward  lying  prone  and  weeping  sore. 
"  My  soul    hath  cleaved  to  the  dust,"  I  heard 
With  sighs  so  deep,  they  well  nigh  choked  the  words. 

"  O  ye  elect  of  God  I   whose  penal  woes 
Both  hope  and  justice  mitigate,  direct 
Towards  the  steep  rising  our  uncertain  way." 

"If  ye  approach  secure  from  this  our  doom. 
Prostration,  and  would  urge  your  course  with  spec  J, 
See  that  ye  still  to  rightward  keep  the  brink." 

So  them  the  bard  besought;    and  such  the  uuuls, 
Beyond  us  some  short  space,  in  answer  came. 

I  noted  what  remain'd  yet  hidden  from  them ; 
Thence  to  my  liege's  eyes  mine  eyes  I  bent, 
And  he,  forthwith  interpreting  their  suit, 
Beckon'd  his  glad  assent.      Free  then  to  act 
As  pleased  me,  I  drew  near,  and  took  my  stand 
Over  that  shade  whose  words  I  late  had   mark'd. 
And,  "Spirit!"  I  said,  "in  whom  repentant  tears 
Mature  that  blessed  hour  when  thou  with  God 
Shalt  find  acceptance,  for  a  while  suspend 
For  me  that  mightier  care.      Say  who  thou  wast; 
Why  thus  ye  grovel  on  your  bellies  prone ; 
And  if,  in  aught,  ye  wish  my  service  there, 
Whence  living  I  am  come."      He  answering  spake  ; 
"  The  cause  why  Heaven  our  back  toward  his  cope 
Reverses,  shalt  thou  know  :    but  me  know  first, 
The  successor  of  Peter,    and  the  name 


98--33-  rUKGATORY.— CANTO    XIX.  87 

And  title  of  my  lineage,  from  that  stream 
That  'twixt  Chiaveri  and  Siestri  draws 
His  limpid  waters     through  the  lowly  glen. 
■  A  month  and  little  more  by  proof  I  learnt, 
W^ith  what  a  weight  that  robe  of  sovereignty 
Upon  his  shoulder  rests,  who  from  the  mire 
Would  guard   it ;    that  each  other  fardel  seems 
But  feathers  in  the  balance.      Late,  alas  I 
Was  my  conversion  :    but,  when   I  became 
Rome's  pastor,  I  discern'd  at  once  the  dream 
And  cozenage  of  life  ;    saw  that  the  heart 
Rested  not  there,  and  yet  no  prouder  height 
Lured  on  the  climber  :    wherefore,  of  that  life 
No  more  enamour'd,  in  my  bosom  love 
Of  purer  being  kindled.      For  till  then 
I  was  a  soul   in  misery,  alienate 
From  God,  and  covetous  of  all  earthly  things ; 
Now,  as  thou  seest,  here  punish'd  for  my  doting^. 
Such  cleansing  from  the  taint  of  avarice, 
Do  spirits,  converted,  need.      This  mount  inflicts 
No  direr  penalty.       E'en  as  our  eyes 
Fasten'd  below,  nor  e'er  to  loftier  chme 
Were  lifted  ;     thus  hath  justice  level'd  us. 
Here  on  the  earth.      As  avarice  quench'd  our  love 
Of  good,  without  which  is  no  working;    thus 
Here  justice  holds  us  prison'd,  hand  and  foot 
Chain'd  down  and  bound,  while  heaven's  just  Lord  shall  please, 
So  long  to  tarry,  motionless,  outstretch'd." 

My  knees  I  stoop'd,  and  would  have  spoke ;   but  he, 
Ere  my  beginning,  by  his  ear  perceived 
I  did  him  reverence ;   and  "  What  cause,"  said  he, 
•*  Hath  bow'd  thee  thus  ?"— "  Compunction,"  I  rejoind, 
"And  inward  awe  of  your  high  dignity." 

"  Up,"  he  exclaim'd,  "  brother  1   upon  thy  feet 
Arise;   err  not:     thy  fellow  servant  I 
(Thine  and  all  others'),  of  one  Sovran  Power. 


J?8 


THE    VISION.  »34— '43- 

If  thou  hast  ever  mark'd  those  holy  sounds 

Of  gospel  truth,  '  nor  shall  be  given  in  marriage,' 

Thou  mayst  discern  the  reasons  of  my  speech. 

Go  thy  ways  now ;   and  linger  here  no  more. 

Thy  tarrying  is  a  let  unto  the  tears, 

With  which  I  hasten  that  whereof  thou  spakest 

I  have  on  earth  a  kinswoman  ;     her  name 

Alagia,  worthy  in  herself,  so  ill 

Example  of  our  house  corrupt  her  not: 

\nd  she  is  all  remaineth  of  me  there." 


CANTO     XX, 


ARGUMENT. 


Among  those  on  the  fifth  cornice,  Hugh  Capet  records  illustrious  examples  of  voluntary  poverty  and  of  bounty  ;  then 
tells  who  himself  is,  and  speaks  of  his  descendants  on  the  French  throne  ;  and,  lastly,  adds  some  noted  instancef 
of  avarice.      When  he  has  ended,  the  mountain  shakes,  and  all  the  spirits  sing  "  Glory  to  God." 

T  LL   strives  the  will,  'gainst  will  more  wise  that  strives : 
-'■      His  pleasure  therefore  to  mine  own  preferr'd, 

I  drew  the  sponge    yet  thirsty  Irom  the  wave. 
Onward  I  moved  :   he  also  onward  moved, 

Who  led  me,  coasting  still,  wherever  place 

Along  the  rock  was  vacant;   as  a  man 

Walks  near  the  battlements  on  narrow  wall. 

For  those  on  the  other  part,  who  drop  by  drop 

Wring  out  their  all-infecting  malady, 

Too  closely  press  the  verge.      Accurst  be  thou, 

Inveterate  wolf!     whose  gorge  ingluts  more  prey 

Than  every  beast  beside,  yet  is  not  fill'd  ; 

So  bottomless  thy  maw. — Ye  spheres  of  heaven  I 

To  whom  there  are,  as  seems,  who  attribute 

All  change  in  mortal  state,  when  is  the  day 

Of  his  appearing,    for  whom  fate  reserves 

To  chase  her  hence? — With  wary  steps  and  slow 

We  pass'd;   and  I  attentive  to  the  shades, 

Whom  piteously  I  heard  lament  and  wail ; 

And,  'midst  the  wailing,  one  before  us  heard 

Cry  out,  "O  blessed  Virgin  I"   as  a  dame 

In  the  sharp  pangs  of  childbed ;   and  "  How  poor 

Thou  wast,"  it  added,  "  witness  that  low  roof 

Where  thou  didst  lay  thy  sacred  burden  down. 

O  good   Fabricius  I     thou  didst  virtue  chuse 

With  poverty,  before  great  wealth  with  vice." 


90  THE   VISION.  27-63- 

The  words  so  pleased   me,  that  desire  to  know 
The  spirit,  from  whose  lip  they  seem'd  to  come, 
Did  draw  me  onward.      Yet  it  spake  the  gift 
Of  Nicholas,    which  on  the  maidens  he 
Bounteous  bestow'd,  to  save  their  youthful  prime 
Unblemish'd.      "Sprit  I    who  dost  speak  of  deeds 
So  worthy,  tell  mc  wno  thou  wast,"  I  said, 
"And  why  thou  dost  with  single  voice  renew 
Memorial  of  such  praise.      That  boon  vouchsafed 
Haply  shall  meet  reward  ;    if  I  return 
To  finish  the  short  pilgrimage  of  life. 
Still  speeding  to  its  close  on  restless  wing." 

"  I,"  answer'd  he,  "  will  tell  thee ;    not  for  help, 
Which  thence  I  look  for;    but  that  in  thyself 
Grace  so  exceeding  shines,  before  thy  time 
Of  mortal  dissolution.      I  was  root 
Of  that  ill  plant  whose  shade  such  poison  sheds 
O'er  all  the  Christian  land,  that  seldom  thence 
Good  fruit  is  gather'd.      Vengeance  soon  should  come, 
Had  Ghent  and   Douay,  Lille  and  Bruges  power; 
And  vengeance  I  of  heaven's  great  Judge  implore. 
Hugh  Capet  was  I  hight ;   from  me  descend 
The  Philips  and  the  Louis,  of  whom  France 
Newly  is  govern'd  :    born  of  one,  who  plied 
The  slaughterer's  trade    at  Paris.      When  the  race 
Of  ancient  kings  had  vanish'd  (all  save  one 
Wrapt  up  in  sable  weeds)  within  my  gripe 
I  found  the  reins  of  empire,  and  such  powers 
Of  new  acquirement,  with  full  store  of  friends, 
That  soon  the  widow'd  circlet  of  the  crown 
Was  girt  upon  the  temples  of  my  son, 
He,  from  whose  bones  the  anointed  race  begins. 
Till  the  great  dc^ver  of  Provence    had  removed 
The  stains,    that  yet  obscured  our  lowly  blood, 
Its  sway  indeed  was  narrow ;    but  howe'er 
It  wrought  no  evil :    there,  with  force  and  lies, 
Began  its  rapine :   after,  for  amends, 


64—99-  PURGATORY.- -CAN  TO    XX. 

Foitou  it  seized,   Navarre  and  Gascony. 

To  Italy  came  Charles ;    and  for  amends, 

Young  Conradine,    an  innocent  victim,  slew; 

And  sent  the  angelic  teacher    back  to  heaven, 

Still  for  amends.      I  see  the  time  at  hand, 

That  forth  from   France  invites  another  Charles 

To  make  himself  and  kindred  better  known. 

Unarm'd  he  issues,  saving  with  that  lance, 

Which  the  arch-traitor  tilted  with  ;    and  that 

He  carries  with  so  home  a  thrust,  as  rives 

The  bowels  of  poor  Florence.      No  increase 

Of  territory  hence,  but  sin  and  shame 

Shall  be  his  guerdon  ;   and  so  much  the  more 

As  he  more  lightly  deems  of  such  foul  wrong. 

I  see  the  other    (who  a  prisoner  late 

Had  stept  on  shore)  exposing  to  the  mart 

His  daughter,  whom  he  bargains  for,  as  do 

The  Corsairs  for  their  slaves.      O  avarice  I 

What  canst  thou  more,  who  hast  subdued  our  blood 

So  wholly  to  thyself,  they  feel  no  care 

Of  their  own  flesh?      To  hide  with  direr  guilt 

Past  ill  and  future,  lo!    the  fiower-de-luce 

Enters  Alagna ;    in  his  Vicar  Christ 

Himself  a  captive,  and  his  mockery 

Acted  again.      Lol   to  his  holy  lip 

The  vinegar  and  gall  once  more  applied  ; 

And  he  'twixt  living  robbers  doom'd  to  bleed. 

Lo  I    the  new  Pilate,  of  whose  cruelty 

Such  violence  cannot  fill  the  measure  up, 

With  no  decree  to  sanction,  pushes  on 

Into  the  temple  his  yet  eager  sails. 

"  O  sovran  Master  I    when  shall  I  rejoice 
To  see  the  vengeance,  which  thy  wrath,  well-pleased, 
In  secret  silence  broods? — While  daylight  lasts, 
So  long  what  thou  didst  hear    of  her,  sole  spouse 
Of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  on  which  thou  turn'dst 


92  THE   VISION.  100—135. 

To  me  for  comment,  is  the  general  theme 
Of  all  our  prayers :    but,  when  it  darkens,  then 
A  different  strain  we  utter;    then  record 
Pygmalion,    whom  his  gluttonous  thirst  of  gold 
Made  traitor,  robber,  parricide :    the  woes 
Of  Midas,  which  his  greedy  wish  ensued, 
Mark'd  for  derision  to  all  future  times: 
And  the  fond  Achan,    how  he  stole  the  prey, 
That  yet  he  seems  by  Joshua's  ire  pursued. 
Sapphira  with  her  husband  next  we  blame ; 
And  praise  the  forefeet,  that  with  furious  ramp 
Spurn 'd  Heliodorus.       AH  the  mountain  round 
Rings  with  the  infamy  of  Thracia's  king, 
Who  slew  his  Phrygian  charge  :    and  last  a  shout 
Ascends  :    '  Declare,  O  Crassus  I     for  thou  know'st, 
The  flavour  of  thy  gold.'     The  voice  of  each 
Now  high,  now  low,  as  each  his  impulse  prompts, 
Is  led  through  many  a  pitch,  acute  or  grave. 
Therefore,  not  singly,  I  erewhilc  rehearsed 
That  blessedness  we  tell  of  in  the  day: 
But  near  me,  none,  beside,  his  accent  raised." 

From  him  we  now  had  parted,  and  essay'd 
With  utmost  efforts  to  surmount  the  way; 
When  I  did  feel,  as  nodding  to  its  fall, 
The  mountain  tremble ;    whence  an  icy  chill 
Seized  on  me,  as  on  one  to  death  convey'd. 
So  shook  not  Delos,  when  Latona  there 
Couch'd  to  bring  forth  the  twin-born  eyes  of  heaven. 

Forthwith  from  every  side  a  shout  arose 
So  vehement,  that  suddenly  my  guide 
Drew  near,  and  cried :  "  Doubt  not,  while  I  conduct  thee* 
"Glory!"  all  shouted  (such  the  sounds  mine  ear 
Gather'd  from  those,  who  near  me  swell'd  the  sounds), 
"  Glory  in  the  highest  be  to  God."     We  stood 
Immovably  suspended,  like  to  those, 
The  shepherds,  who  first  heard  in  Bethlehem's  field 


:^^^? 


With  wary  steps  and  slow 
We  pass'd  ;  and  I  attentive  to  the  shades, 
Whom  piteously  I  heard  lament  and  wail. 

Canio  XX. 


And  who 
Are  those  twain  spirits,  that  escort  thee  there? 
Be  it  not  said  thou  scorn'st  to  talk  with  me. 

Canto  XX in..  Ihi 


'36- ■44-  PURGATORY.— CANTO    XX.  93 

That  song  :    till  ceased  the  trembling,  and  the  song 

Was  ended  :    then  our  hallow'd  path  resumed, 

Eying  the  prostrate  shadows,  who  renew'd 

Their  custom'd  mourning.      Never  in  my  breast 

Did  ignorance  so  struggle  with  desire 

Of  knowledge,  if  my  memory  do  not  err, 

As  in  that  moment;    nor  through  haste  dared  I 

To  question,  nor  myself  could  aught  discern. 

So  on  I  fared,  in  thoughtfulness  and  dread. 


CANTO     XXI. 


ARGUMENT. 


The   two    Ports    are   overtaken   by  the   spirit   of  Statius,  who,  being  cleansed,  is  on  his  way  to  Paradise,  mod  who 
explains  the  cause  of  the  mountain  shaking,  and  of  the  hymn  ;    his  joy  at  beholding  Virgil. 

THE  natural  thirst,  ne'er  quench'd  but  from  the  well 
Whereof  the  woman  of  Samaria  craved 
Excited  ;   haste,  along  the  cumber'd  path, 
After  my  guide,  impell'd  ;   and  pity  moved 
My  bosom  for  the  'vengeful  doom  though  just. 
When  lo  I  even  as  Luke    relates,  that  Christ 
Appear'd  unto  the  two  upon  their  way. 
New-risen  from  his  vaulted  grave;    to  us 
A  shade  appear'd,  and  after  us  approached, 
Contemplating  the  crowd  beneath  its  feet. 
We  were  not  ware  of  it ;   so  first  it  spake 
Saying,  "God  give  you  peace,  my  brethren  I"  then 
Sudden  we  turn'd  :   and  Virgil  such  salute. 
As  fitted  that  kind  greeting,  gave;   and  cried: 
"  Peace  in  the  blessed  council  be  thy  lot. 
Awarded  by  that  righteous  court  which  me 
To  everlasting  banishment  exiles." 

"Howl"  he  exclaim'd,  nor  from  his  speed  meanwhile 
Desisting;     "  If  that  ye  be  spirits  whom  God 
Vouchsafes  not  room  above ;  who  up  the  height 
Has  been  thus  far  your  guide?"      To  whom  the  bard: 
"  If  thou  observe  the  tokens,    which  this  man. 
Traced  by  the  finger  of  the  angel,  bears  ; 
Tis  plain  that  in  the  kingdom  of  the  just 
He  needs  must  share.      But  sithence  she,    whose  wheel 
Spins  day  and   night,  for  him  not  yet  had  drawn 
That  yarn,  which  on  the  fatal  distaff  piled, 


!8-6s.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXI.  95 

Clotho  apportions  to  each  wight  that  breathes ; 
His  soul,  that  sister  is  to  mine  and  thine, 
Not  of  herself  could  mount ;    for  not  like  ours 
Her  ken  :  whence  I,  from  forth  the  ample  gulf 
Of  hell,  was  ta'en,  to  lead  him,  and  will  lead 
Far  as  my  lore  avails.      But,  if  thou  know. 
Instruct  us  for  what  cause,  the  mount  erewhile 
Thus  shook,  and  trembled  :   wherefore  all  at  once 
Seem'd  shouting,  even  from  his  wave-wash'd  foot." 

That  questioning  so  tallied  with  my  wish, 
The  thirst  did  feel  abatement  of  its  edge 
E'en  from  expectance.      He  forthwith  replied : 
"  In  its  devotion,  nought  irregular 
This  mount  can  witness,  or  by  punctual  rule 
Unsanction'd  ;   here  from  every  change  exempt, 
Other  than  that,  which  heaven  in  itself 
Doth  of  itself  receive,    no  influence 
Can  reach  us.      Tempest  none,  shower,  hail,  or  snow. 
Hoar  frost,  or  dewy  moistness,  higher  falls 
Than  that  brief  scale  of  threefold  steps  :    thick  clouds. 
Nor  scudding  rack,  are  ever  seen :   swift  glance 
Ne'er  lightens;    nor  Thaumantian     Iris  gleams. 
That  yonder  often  shifts  on  each  side  heaven. 
Vapour  adust  doth  never  mount  above 
The  highest  of  the  trinal  stairs,  whereon 
Peter's  vicegerent  stands.      Lower  perchance, 
With  various  motion  rock'd,  trembles  the  soil : 
But  here,  through  wind  in  earth's  deep  hollow  pent, 
I  know  not  how,  yet  never  trembled :   then 
Trembles,  when  any  spirit  feels  itself 
So  purified,  that  it  may  rise,  or  move 
For  rising ;    and  such  loud  acclaim  ensues. 
Purification,  by  the  will  alone, 
Is  proved,  that  free  to  change  society 
Seizes  the  soul,  rejoicing  in  her  will. 
Desire  of  bliss  is  present  from  the  first ; 
But  strong  propension  hinders,  to  that  wish 
By  the  just  ordinance  of  heaven  opposed; 


go  THE   VISION'. 

Propension  now  as  eager  to  fulfil 

The  allotted  torment,  as  erewhile  to  sin. 

And  I,  who  in  this  punishment  had  Iain 

Five  hundred  years  and  more,  but  now  have  felt 

Free  wish  for  happier  clime.      Therefore  thou  felt'st 

The  mountain  tremble ;   and  the  spirits  devout 

Heard'st,  over  all  his  limits,  utter  praise 

To  that  liege  Lord,  whom  I  entreat  their  joy 

To  hasten."     Thus  he  spake :   and,  since  the  draught 

Is  grateful  ever  as  the  thirst  is  keen, 

No  words  may  speak  my  fulness  of  content. 

"  Now,"  said  the  instructor  sage,  "  I  see  the  net 
That  takes  ye  here :   and  how  the  toils  are  loosed ; 
Why  rocks  the  mountain,  and  why  ye  rejoice. 
Vouchsafe,  that  from  thy  lips  I  next  may  learn 
Who  on  the  earth  thou  wast ;   and  wherefore  here, 
So  many  an  age,  were  prostrate." — "  In  that  time, 
When  the  good  Titus,    with  Heaven's  King  to  help. 
Avenged  those  piteous  gashes,  whence  the  blood 
By  Judas  sold  did  issue  ;   with  the  name 
Most  lasting  and  most  honour'd,  there,  was  I 
Abundantly  renown'd,"  the  shade  replied, 
"  Not  yet  with  faith  endued.      So  passing  sweet 
My  vocal  spirit ;    from  Tolosa,    Rome 
To  herself  drew  me,  where  I  ineritcd 
A  myrtle  garland     to  inwreathe  my  brow. 
Statius  they  name  me  still.     Of  Thebes  I  sang, 
And  next  of  great  Achilles;    but  i'  the  way 
Fell    with  the  second  burthen.      Of  my  flane 
Those  sparkles  were  the  seeds,  which  I  derived 
From  the  bright  fountain  of  celestial  fire 
That  feeds  unnumber'd  lamps ;   the  song  I  mean 
Which  sounds  Eneas'  wanderings:    that  the  breast 
I  hung  at;   that  the  nurse,  from  whom  my  veins 
Drank  inspiration  •    whose  authority 
Was  ever  sacred  with  me.     To  have  lived 


The  shadowy  forms, 
That  seem'd  things  dead  and  dead  again,  drew  in 
At  their  deep-delved  orbs  rare  wonder  of  me, 
Perceiving  I  had  life. 

Canto  XXIV.,  lintt  4^, 


At  len;^tli,  as  undeccivctl,  tlicy  went  their  \\  .\y  : 
And  we  approach  tlie  tree,  whom  vows  and  tears 
Sue  to  in  vain  ,  the  mighty  tree 

CiHi.>  xxiv 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XXI.  97 

Co-eval  with  the  Mantuan,  I  would  bide 

The  revolution  of  another  sun 

Beyond  my  stated  years  in  banishment." 

The  Mantuan,  when  he  heard  him,  turn'd  to  me; 
And  holding  silence,  by  his  countenance 
r,njoin'd  me  silence:    but  the  power,  which  wills, 
Bears  not  supreme  control  :    laughter  and  tears 
Follow  so  closely  on  the  passion  prompts  them, 
They  wait  not  for  the  motions  of  the  will 
In  natures  most  sincere.      I  did  but  smile, 
As  one  who  winks ;     and  thereupon  the  shade 
Broke  off,  and  peer'd  into  mine  eyes,  where  best 
Our  looks  interpret.      "So  to  good  event 
Mayst  thou  conduct  such  great  emprize,"  he  cried, 
"  Say,  why  across  thy  visage  beam'd,  but  now. 
The  lightning  of  a  smile."      On  either  part 
Now  am  I  straiten'd ;   one  conjures  me  speak. 
The  other  to  silence  binds  me  :   whence  a  sigh 
I  utter,  and  the  sigh  is  heard.      "  Speak  on," 
The  teacher  cried  :    "  and  do  not  fear  to  speak ; 
But  tell  him  what  so  earnestly  he  asks." 
Whereon  I  thus:    "Perchance,  O  ancient  spirit  I 
Thou  marvel'st  at  my  smiling.      There  is  room 
For  yet  more  wonder.      He,  who  guides  my  ken 
On  high,  he  is  that  Mantuan,  led  by  whom 
Thou  didst  presume  of  men  and  gods  to  sing. 
If  other  cause  thou  deem'dst  for  which   I  smiled, 
Leave  it  as  not  the  true  one  :    and  believe 
Those  words,  thou  spakest  of  him,  indeed  the  cause." 

Now  down  he  bent  to  embrace  my  teacher's  feet ; 
But  he  forbade  him:    "Brother!    do  it  not: 
Thou  art  a  shadow,  and  behoid'st  a  shade." 
He,   rising,  answer'd  thus:    "Now  hast  thou  proved 
The  force  and  ardour  of  the  love  I  bear  thee. 
When   I   forget  we  are  but  tilings  of  air, 
Andj  qs  a  substance,  treat  an  empty  shade." 


CANTO     XXII. 


ARGUMENT. 


Dante,  Virgil,  and  Statius  mount  to  the  sixth  cornice,  where  the  sin  of  gluttony  is  cleansed,  the  two  Latin  Poet> 
discoursing  by  the  way.  Turning  to  the  right,  they  find  a  tree  hung  with  sweet-smelling  fruit,  and  watered  by 
a  shower  that  issues  from  the  rock.  \'oices  are  heard  to  proceed  from  among  the  leaves,  recording  exainplet 
of  temperance. 

"V  T  OW   we  had  left  the  angel,  who  had  turn'd 
•^  ^       To  the  sixth  circle  our  ascending  step ; 
One  gash  from  off  my  forehead  razed  ;    while  ibey, 
Whose  wishes  tend  to  justice,  shouted  forth, 
"Blessed  I"     and  ended  with  "I  thirst:"   and  I, 
More  nimble  than  along  the  other  straits, 
So  journey'd,  that,  without  the  sense  of  toil, 
I  follow'd  upward  the  swift-footed  shades ; 
When  Virgil  thus  began  :    "  Let  its  pure  flame 
From  virtue  flow,  and  love  can  never  fail 
To  warm  another's  bosom,  so  the  light 
Shine  manifestly  forth.      Hence,  from  that  hour, 
When,  'mongst  us  in  the  purlieus  of  the  deep. 
Came  down  the  spirit  of  Aquinum's  bard, 
Who  told  of  thine  affection,  my  good  will 
Hath  been  for  thee  of  quality  as  strong 
As  ever  link'd  itself  to  one  not  seen. 
Therefore  these  stairs  will  now  seem  short  to  me. 
But  tell  me:    and,  if  too  secure,  I  loose 
The  rein  with  a  friend's  licence,  as  a  friend 
Forgive  me,  and  speak  now  as  with  a  friend  : 
How  chanced  it  covetous  desire  could  find 
Place  in  that  bosom,  'midst  such  ample  store 
Of  wisdom,  as  thy  zeal  had  treasured  there?" 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XXII.  99 

First  somewhat  moved  to  laughter  by  his  words, 
Statius  replied  :    "  Each  syllable  of  thine 
Is  a  dear  pledge  of  love.      Things  oft  appear,  , 

That  minister  false  matter  to  our  doubts, 
When  their  true  causes  are  removed  from  sight. 
Thy  question  doth  assure  me,  thou  believest 
I  was  on  earth  a  covetous  man  ;    perhaps 
Because  thou  found'st  me  in  that  circle  placed. 
Know  then  I  was  too  wide  of  avarice : 
And  e'en  for  that  excess,  thousands  of  moons 
Have  wax'd  and  waned  upon  my  sufferings. 
And  were  it  not  that  I  with  heedful  can' 
Noted,  where  thou  exclaim'st  as  if  in  ire 
With  human  nature,  '  Why,    thou  cursed  thirst 
Of  gold  I   dost  not  with  juster  measure  guide 
The  appetite  of  mortals  ?'      I  had  met 
The  fierce  encounter    of  the  voluble  rock. 
Then  was  I  ware  that,  with  too  ample  wing. 
The  hands  may  haste  to  lavishment ;   and  turn'd, 
As  from  my  other  evil,  so  from  this, 
In  penitence.      How  many  from  their  grave 
Shall  with  shorn  locks    arise,  who  living,  ay. 
And  at  life's  last  extreme,  of  this  offence. 
Through  ignorance,  did  not  repent  I      And  know, 
The  fault,  which  lies  direct  from  any  sin 
In  level  opposition,  here,  with  that, 
Wastes  its  green  rankness  on  one  common  heap. 
Therefore,  if  I  have  been  with  those,  who  wail 
Their  avarice,  to  cleanse  me ;   through  reverse 
Of  their  transgression,  such  hath  been  my  lot." 

To  whom  the  sovran  of  the  pastoral  song : 
"While  thou  didst  sing  that  cruel  warfare  waged 
By  the  twin  sorrow  of  Jocasta's  womb, 
From  thy  discourse  with  Clio    there,  it  seems 
As  faith  had  not  been  thine;   without  the  which, 


THE   VISION.  60-96 

Good  deeds  suffice  not.      And  if  so,  what  sun 
Rose  on  thee,  or  what  candle  pierced  the  dark, 
That  thou  didst  after  see  to  hoise  the  sail, 
And  follow  where  the  fisherman  had  led  ?" 

He  answering  thus  :    "  By  thee  conducted  first, 
I  enter'd  the  Parnassian  grots,  and  quaff'd 
Of  the  clear  spring:    illumined  first  by  thee, 
Open'd  mine  eyes  to  God.      Thou  didst,  as  one. 
Who,  journeying  through  the  darkness,  bears  a  light 
Behind,  that  profits  not  himself,  but  makes 
His  followers  wise,  when  thou  exclaimedst,  'Lol 
A  renovated  world.    Justice  return'd. 
Times  of  primeval  innocence  restored. 
And  a  new  race  descended  from  above.' 
Poet  and  Christian  both  to  thee  I  owed. 
That  thou  mayst  mark  more  clearly  what  I  trace, 
My  hand  shall  stretch  forth  to  inform  the  lines 
With  livelier  colouring.      Soon  o'er  all  the  world, 
By  messengers  from  heaven,  the  true  belief 
Teem'd  now  prolific;   and  that  word  of  thine, 
Accordant,  to  the  new  instructors  chimed. 
Induced  by  which  agreement,  1  was  wont 
Resort  to  them  ;   and  soon  their  sanctity 
So  won  upon  me,  that,  Domitian's  rage 
Pursuing  them,  I  mix'd  my  tears  with  theirs, 
And,  while  on  earth  I  stay'd,  still  succour'd  them ; 
And  their  most  righteous  customs  made  me  scorn 
All  sects  besides.      Before    I  led  the  Greeks, 
In  tuneful  fiction,  to  the  streams  of  Thebes, 
I  was  baptised :    but  secretly,  through  fear, 
Remain'd  a  Christian,  and  conform'd  long  time 
To  Pagan  rites.      Four  centuries  and  more, 
I,  for  that  lukewarmness,  was  fain  to  pace 
Round  the  fourth  circle.      Thou  then,  who  hast  raised 
The  covering  which  did  hide  such  blessing  from  me,     • 
Whilst  much  of  this  ascent  is  yet  to  climb, 
Say,  if  thou  know,  where  our  old  Terence    bides, 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXII. 

Cscilius,    Plautus,  Varro  :     if  condemn'd 
They  dwell,  and  in  what  province  of  the  deep." 
"These,"  said  my  guide,  "with  Persius  and  myself, 
And  others  many  more,  are  with  that  Greek, 
Of  mortals,  the  most  cherish'd  by  the  nine, 
In  the  first  ward    of  darkness.      There,  oft-times, 
We  of  that  mount  hold  converse,  on  whose  top 
For  aye  our  nurses  live.     We  have  the  bard 
Of  Fella,    and  the  Teian,    Agatho, 
Simonides,  and  many  a  Grecian  else 
Ingarlanded  with  laurel.      Of  thy  train, 
Antigone  is  there,  Deiphile, 
Argia,  and  as  sorrowful  as  erst 
Ismene,  and  who  show'd  Langia's  wave  : 
Deidamia  with  her  sisters  there. 
And  blind  Tiresias'  daughter,     and  the  bride 
Sea-born  of  Peleus."         Either  poet  now 
Was  silent ;   and  no  longer  by  the  ascent 
Or  the  steep  walls  obstructed,  round  them  cast 
Inquiring  eyes.      Four  handmaids    of  the  day 
Had  finish'd  now  their  office,  and  the  fifth 
Was  at  the  chariot-beam,  directing  still 
Its  flamy  point  aloof;   when  thus  my  guide: 
"  Methinks,  it  well  behoves  us  to  the  brink 
Bend  the  right  shoulder,  circuiting  the  mount. 
As  we  have  ever  used."      So  custom  there 
Was  usher  to  the  road  ;   the  which  we  chose 
Less  doubtful,  as  that  worthy  shade    complied. 
They  on  before  me  went :    I  sole  pursued. 
Listening  their  speech,  that  to  my  thoughts  convey'd 
Mysterious  lessons  of  sweet  poesy. 
But  soon  they  ceased  ;   for  midway  of  the  road 
A  tree  we  found,  with  goodly  fruitage  hung. 
And  pleasant  to  the  smell :   and  as  a  fir. 
Upward  from  bough  to  bough,  less  ample  spreads; 
So  downward  this  less  ample  spread  ;    that  none, 


THE   VISION. 

Methinks,  aloft  may  climb.      Upon  the  side, 

That  closed  our  path,  a  liquid  crystal  fell 

From  the  steep  rock,  and  through  the  sprays  above 

Strcam'd  showering.      With  associate  step  the  bards 

Drew  near  the  plant ;    and,  from  amidst  the  leaves, 

A  voice  was  heard  :    "  Ye  shall  be  chary  of  me ;" 

And  after  added  :  "  Mary  took  more  thought 

For  joy  and  honour  of  the  nuptial  feast, 

Than  for  herself,  who  answers  now  for  you. 

The  women  of  old  Rome    were  satisfied 

With  water  for  their  beverage.      Daniel    fed 

On  pulse,  and  wisdom  gain'd.      The  primal  age 

Was  beautiful  as  gold :   and  hunger  then 

Made  acorns  tasteful ;   thirst,  each  rivulet 

Run  nectar.      Honey  and  locusts  were  the  food. 

Whereon  the  Baptist  in  the  wilderness 

Fed,  and  that  eminence  of  glory  reach'd 

And  greatness,  which  the  Evangelist  records." 


CANTO     XXIII. 


ARGUMENT. 

They  are  overtaken  by  the  spirit  of  Forese,  who  had  been  a  friend   of  our  Poefs  on  earth,  and  who  now  inveighi 
bitteriy  against  the  immodest  dress  of  their  countrywomen  at  Florence. 

/^N  the  green  leaf  mine  eyes  were  fix'd,  like  his 
^-^     Who  throws  away  his  days  in  idle  chase 
Of  the  diminutive  birds,  when  thus  I  heard 
The  more  than  father  warn  me :    "  Son !  our  time 
Asks  thriftier  using.     Linger  not :    away." 

Thereat  my  face  and  steps  at  once  I  turn'd 
Toward  the  sages,  by  whose  converse  cheer'd 
I  journey'd  on,  and  felt  no  toil  :   and  lo  I 
A  sound  of  weeping,  and  a  song :    "  My  lips, 
O  Lord!"  and  these  so  mingled,  it  gave  birth 
To  pleasure  and  to  pain.      "  O  Sire  beloved  1 
Say  what  is  this  I  hear."      Thus  I  inquired. 

"  Spirits,"  said  he,  "  who,  as  they  go,  perchance, 
Their  debt  of  duty  pay."      As  on  their  road 
The  thoughtful  pilgrims,  overtaking  some 
Not  known  unto  them,  turn  to  them,  and  look. 
But  stay  not ;  thus,  approaching  from  behind 
With  speedier  motion,  eyed  us,  as  they  pass'd, 
A  crowd  of  spirits,  silent  and  devout. 
The  eyes    of  each  were  dark  and  hollow;   pale 
Their  visage,  and  so  lean  withal,  the  bones 
Stood  staring  through  the  skin.      I  do  not  think 
Thus  dry  and  meagre  Erisicthon  show'd, 
When  pinch'd  by  sharp-set  famine  to  the  quick. 

"  Lo!"  to  myself  I  mused,  "the  race,  who  lost 
Jerusalem,  when  Mary    with  dire  beak 


I04  THE    VISION. 

Prey'd  on  her  child."     The  sockets  seem'd  as  rings, 

From  which  the  gems  were  dropt.      Who  reads  the  name 

Of  man  upon  his  forehead,  there  the  M 

Had  traced  most  plainly.      Who  would  deem,  that  scent 

Of  water  and  an  apple  could  have  proved 

Powerful  to  generate  such  pining  want, 

Not  knowing  how  it  wrought  ?      While  now  I  stood. 

Wondering  what  thus  could  waste  them  (for  the  cause 

Of  their  gaunt  hoUowness  and  scaly  rind 

Appear'd  not),  lo  I   a  spirit  turn'd  his  eyes 

In  their  deep-sunken  cells,  and  fasten'd  them 

On  me,  then  cried  with  vehemence  aloud : 

"What  grace  is  this  vouchsafed  me?"      By  his  looks 

I  ne'er  had  recognised  him :    but  the  voice 

Brought  to  my  knowledge  what  his  cheer  conceal'd. 

Remembrance  of  his  altered  lineaments 

Was  kindled  from  that  spark;   and  I  agnized 

The  visage  of  Forese.       "  Ah  I    respect 

This  wan  and  leprous-wither'd  skin,"  thus  he 

Suppliant  implored,  "  this  macerated  flesh. 

Speak  to  me  truly  of  thyself.      And  who 

Are  those  twain  spirits,  that  escort  thee  tliere? 

Be  it  not  said  thou  scorn'st  to  talk  with  me." 

"That  face  of  thine,"  I  answer'd  him,  "which  dead 
I  once  bewail'd,  disposes  me  not  less 
For  weeping,  when  I  see  it  thus  transform'd. 
Say  then,  by  Heaven,  what  blasts  ye  thus?     The  whilst 
I  wonder,  ask  not  speech  from  me :   unapt 
Is  he  to  speak,  whom  other  will  employs." 

He  thus  :    "  The  water  and  the  plant,  we  pass'd, 
With   power  are  gifted,  by  the  eternal  will 
Infused  ;   the  which  so  pines  me.      Every  spirit, 
Whose  song  bewails  his  gluttony  indulged 
Too  grossly,  here  in  hunger  and  in  thirst 
Is  purified.     The  odour,  which  the  fruit. 
And  spray  that  showers  upon  the  verdure,  breathe, 


63-98.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXIII.  105 

Inflames  us  with  desire  to  feed  and  drink. 

Nor  once  alone  encompassing  our  route, 

We  come  to  add  fresh  fuel  to  the  pain: 

Pain,  said  I?  solace  rather:  for  that  will. 

To  the  tree,  leads  us,  by  which  Christ  was  led 

To  call  on  Eli,  joyful,  when  he  paid 

Our  ransom  from  his  vein."     I  answering  thus : 

"Forese!  from  that  day,  in  which  the  world 

For  better  life  thou  changedst,  not  five  years 

Have  circled.     If  the  power     of  sinning  more 

Were  first  concluded  in  thee,  ere  thou  knew'st 

That  kindly  grief  which  re-espouses  us 

To  God,  how  hither  art  thou  come  so  soon  ? 

I  thought  to  find  thee  lower,     there,  where  time 

Is  recompense  for  time.     He  straight  replied: 

"To  drink  up  the  sweet  wormwood  of  affliction 

I  have  been  brought  thus  early,  by  the  tears 

Stream'd  down  my  Nella's    cheeks.     Her  prayers  devout, 

Her  sighs  have  drawn  me  from  the  coast,  where  oft 

Expectance  lingers ;  and  have  set  me  free 

From  the  other  circles.     In  the  sight  of  God 

So  much  the  dearer  is  my  widow  prized. 

She  whom  I  loved  so  fondly,  as  she  ranks 

More  singly  eminent  for  virtuous  deeds. 

The  tract,  most  barbarous  of  Sardinia's  isle. 

Hath  dames  more  chaste,  and  modester  by  far, 

Than  that  wherein  I  left  her.     O  sweet  brother! 

What  wouldst  thou  have  me  say  ?        A  time  to  come 

Stands  full  within  my  view,  to  which  this  hour 

Shall  not  be  counted  of  an  ancient  date. 

When. from  the  pulpit  shall  be  loudly  warn'd 

The  unblushing  dames  of  Florence,    lest  they  bare 

Unkerchief'd  bosoms  to  the  common  gaze. 

What  savage  women  hath  the  world  e'er  seen, 

What  Saracens,    for  whom  there  needed  scourge 

Of  spiritual  or  other  discipline, 


ro6  THE   VISION. 

To   force  them  walk  with  covering  on  their  limbs? 

But  did  they  see,  the  shameless  ones,  what  Heaven 

Wafts  on  swift  wing  toward  them  while  I  speak. 

Their  mouths  were  oped  for  howling :    they  shall  taste 

Of  sorrow  (unless  foresight  cheat  me  here) 

Or  e'er  the  cheek  of  him  be  clothed  with  down, 

Who  is  now  rock'd  with  lullaby    asleep. 

Ah  !    now,  my  brother,  hide  thyself  no  more : 

Thou  seest    how  not  I  alone,  but  all, 

Gaze,  where  thou  veil'st  the  intercepted  sun." 

Whence  I  replied  :    "  If  thou  recall  to  mind 
What  we  were  once  together,  even  yet 
Remembrance  of  those  days  may  grieve  thee  sore. 
That  I  forsook  that  life,  was  due  to  him 
Who  there  precedes  me,  some  few  evenings  past, 
When  she  was  round,  who  shines  with  sister  lamp 
To  his  that  glisters  yonder,"  and  I  show'd 
The  sun.     "  'Tis  he,  who  through  profoundest  night 
Of  the  true  dead  has  brought  me,  with  this  flesh 
As  true,  that  follows.      From  that  gloom  the  aid 
Of  his  sure  comfort  drew  me  on  to* climb, 
And,  climbing,  wind  along  this  mountain-steep, 
Which  rectifies  in  you  whate'er  the  world 
Made  crooked  and  depraved.      I  have  his  word. 
That  he  will  bear  me  company  as  far 
As  till  I  come  where  Beatrice  dwells : 
But  there  must  leave  me.      Virgil  is  that  spirit, 
Who  thus  hath  promised,"  and  I  pointed  to  him; 
"  The  other  is  that  shade,  for  whom  so  late 
Your  realm,  as  he  arose,  exulting,  shook 
Through  every  pendent  cliff  and  rocky  bound." 


CANTO      XXIV 


ARGUMENT. 
Forese  points  out  several  others  byname  who  are  here,  like  himself,  purifying  themselves  from  the  vice  of  gluttony; 
and  amongst  the  rest,  Bucnaggiunta  of  Lucca,  with  whom  our  Poet  converses.  Forese  then  predicts  the  violent 
end  of  Dante's  political  enemy,  Corso  Donati ;  and  when  he  has  quitted  them,  the  Poet,  in  company  with 
Sutius  and  Virgil,  arrives  at  another  tree.  Irom  whence  issue  voices  that  record  ancient  examples  of  gluttony ; 
and  proceedmg  forwards,  they  are  directed  by  an  angel  which  way  to  ascend  to  the  next  cornice  of  the  mountain. 

/^UR  journey  was  not  slacken'd  by  our  talk, 

^^     Nor  yet  our  talk  by  journeying.      Still  we  spake, 

And  urged  our  travel  stoutly,  like  a  ship 

When  the  wind  sits  astern.      The  shadowy  forms, 

That  seem'd  things  dead  and  dead  again,  drew  in 

At  their  deep-delved  orbs  rare  wonder  of  me. 

Perceiving  I  had  life;   and  I  my  words 

Continued,  and  thus  spake :    "  He  journeys    up 

Perhaps  more  tardily  than  else  he  would. 

For  others'  sake.      But  tell  me,  if  thou  know'st 

Where  is  Piccarda?      Tell  me.  if  I  see 

Any  of  mark,  among  this  multitude 

Who  eye  me  thus." — "  My  sister  (she  for  whom. 

Twixt  beautiful  and  good,    I  cannot  say 

Which  name  was  htter)  wears  e'en  now  her  crown, 

And  triumphs  in  Olympus."     Saying  this, 

He  added :    "  Since  spare  diet    hath  so  worn 

Our  semblance  out,  'tis  lawful  here  to  name 

Each  one.      This,"  and  his  finger  then  he  raised, 

"  Is  Buonaggiunta,  — Buonaggiunta,  he 


io8  THE   VISION. 

Of  Lucca :   and  that  face  beyond  him,  pierced 
Unto  a  leaner  fineness  than  the  rest, 
Had  keeping  of  the  church ;   he  was  of  Tours, 
And  purges  by  wan  abstinence  away 
Bolsena's  eels  and  cups  of  muscadel." 

He  show'd  me  many  others,  one  by  one : 
And  all,  as  they  were  named,  seem'd  well  content ; 
For  no  dark  gesture  I  discern 'd  in  any. 
I  saw,  through  hunt;er,  Ubaldino    grind 
His  teeth  on  emptiness  ;   and  Boniface, 
That  waved  the  crozier    o'er  a  numerous  flock : 
I  saw  the  Marquis,    who  had  time  erewhile 
To  swill  at  Forli  with  less  drought ;    yet  so. 
Was  one  ne'er  sated.      I  howe'er,  like  him 
That,  gazing  'midst  a  crowd,  singles  out  one, 
So  singled  him  of  Lucca ;    for  methought 
Was  none  amongst  them  took  such  note  of  me. 
Somewhat  I  heard  him  whisper  of  Gentucca : 
The  sound  was  indistinct,  and  murmur'd  there, 
Where  justice,  that  so  strips  them,  fix'd  her  sting. 

"  Spirit  I"  said  I,  "  it  seems  as  thou  wouldst  fain 
Speak  with  me.      Let  me  hear  thee.      Mutual  wish 
To  converse  prompts,  which  let  us  both  indulge." 

He,  answering,  straight  began :   "  Woman  is  born. 
Whose  brow  no  wimple  shades  yet,    that  shall  make 
My  city  please  thee,  blame  it  as  they  may. 
Go  then  with  this  forewarning.      If  aught  false 
My  whisper  too  implied,  the  event  shall  tell. 
But  say,  if  of  a  truth  I  see  the  man 
Of  that  new  lay  the  inventor,  which  begins 
With  '  Ladies,  ye  that  con  the  lore  of  love.'" 

To  whom  I  thus:    "Count  of  me  but  as  one. 
Who  am  the  scribe  of  love;   that,  when  he  breathes, 
Take  up  my  pen,  and,  as  he  dictates,  write." 

"Brother!"    said  he,  "the  hindrance,  which  once  held 
The  notary,    with  Guittone    and  myself, 


Not  unlike 
To  iron  in  the  furnace,  every  cirque, 
Ebullient,  shot  forth  scintillating  fires. 


la  fashion,  as  a  snow  white  rose,  lay  then 
Before  my  view  the  saintly  multitude, 
Which  in  his  own  blood  Christ  espoused. 

Canto  XXXI.,   lints  I-3. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXIV.  109 

Short  of  that  new  and  sweeter  style    I  hear, 

Is  now  disclosed  :    I  see  how  ye  your  plumes 

Stretch,  as  the  inditer  guides  them ;   which,  no  question, 

Ours  did  not.      He  that  seeks  a  grace  beyond, 

Sees  not  the  distance  parts  one  style  from  other." 

And,  as  contented,  here  he  held  his  peace. 

Like  as  the  birds,  that  winter  near  the  Nile, 
In  squared  regiment  direct  their  course. 
Then  stretch  themselves  in  file  for  speedier  fli;^ht; 
Thus  all  the  tribe  of  spirits,  as  they  turn'd 
Their  visage,  faster  fled,  nimble  alike 
Through  leanness  and  desire.      And  as  a  man, 
Tired  with  the  motion  of  a  trotting  steed. 
Slacks  pace,  and  stays  behind  his  company, 
Till  his  o'erbreathed  lungs  keep  temperate  time; 
E'en  so  Forese  let  that  holy  crew 
Proceed,  behind  them  lingering  at  my  side. 
And  saying:    "When  shall   I  again  behold  thee?" 

"  How  long  my  life  may  last,"  said  I,  "  i  know  not : 
This  know,  how  soon  soever  I  return, 
My  wishes  will  before  me  have  arrived  : 
Sithence  the  place,    where  I  am  set  to  live, 
Is,  day  by  day,  more  scoop'd  of  all  its  good ; 
And  dismal  ruin  seems  to  threaten  it." 

"Go  now,"  he  cried:  "lol  he,    whose  guilt  is  most, 
Passes  before  my  vision,  dragg'd  at  heels 
Of  an  infuriate  beast.      Toward  the  vale. 
Where  guilt  hath  no  redemption,  on  it  speeds, 
Each  step  increasing  swiftness  on  the  last ; 
Until  a  blow  it  strikes,  that  leaveth  him 
A  corse  most  vilely  shatter'd.      No  long  space 
Those  wheels  have  yet  to  roll"  (therewith  his  eyes 
Look'd  up  to  heaven),  "  ere  thou  shalt  plainly  see 
That  which  my  words  may  not  more  plainly  tell. 
I  quit  thee :   time  is  precious  here :    I  lose 
Too  much,  thus  measuring  my  pace  with  thine." 


THE    VISION.  9 

As  from  a  troop  of  well  ranlc'd  chivalry, 
One  knight,  more  enterprising  than  the  rest, 
Pricks  forth  at  gallop,  eager  to  display 
His  prowess  in  the  first  encounter  proved; 
So  parted  he  from  us,  with  lengthen'd  strides ; 
And  left  me  on  the  way  with  those  twain  spirits, 
Who  were  such  mighty  marshals  of  the  world. 

When  he  beyond  us  had  so  fled,  mine  eyes 
No  nearer  reach'd  him,  than  my  thought  his  words; 
The  branches  of  another  fruit,  thick  hung. 
And  blooming  fresh,  appear'd.      E'en  as  our  steps 
Turn'd  thither :    not  far  off,  it  rose  to  view. 
Beneath  it  were  a  multitude,  that  raised 
Their  hands,  and  shouted  forth  I  know  not  what 
Unto  the  boughs ;   like  greedy  and  fond  brats. 
That  beg,  and  answer  none  obtain  from  him, 
Of  whom  they  beg;   but  more  to  draw  them  on. 
He,  at  arm's  length,  the  object  of  their  wish 
Above  them  holds  aloft,  and  hides  it  not. 

At  length,  as  undeceived,  they  went  their  way: 
And  we  approach  the  tree,  whom  vows  and  tears 
Sue  to  in  vain ;   the  mighty  tree.      "  Pass  on, 
And  come  not  near.      Stands  higher  up  the  wood, 
Whereof  Eve  tasted  :  and  from  it  was  ta'en 
This  plant."      Such  sounds  from  midst  the  thickets  came. 
Whence  I,  with  either  bard,  close  to  the  side 
That  rose,  pass'd  forth  beyond.      "  Remember,"  next 
We  heard,  "  those  unblest  creatures  of  the  clouds, 
How  they  their  twyfold  bosoms,  overgorged, 
Opposed  in  fight  to  Theseus  :   call  to  mind 
The  Hebrews,  how,  effeminate,  they  stoop'd 
To  ease  their  thirst;    whence  Gideon's  ranks  were  thinn'd,. 
As  he  to  Madian    march'd  adown  the  hills." 

Thus  near  one  border  coasting,  still  we  heard 
The  sins  of  glutt-^ny,  with  woe  erewhile 
Reguerdon'd.      Then  along  the  lonely  path. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXIV. 

Once  more  at  large,  full  thousand  paces  on 
We  travel'd,  each  contemplative  and  mute. 

•'Why  pensive  journey  so  ye  three  alone?" 
Thus  suddenly  a  voice  exclaim'd  :   whereat 
I  shook,  as  doth  a  scared  and  paltry  beast; 
Then  raised  my  head,  to  look  from  whence  it  came. 

Was  ne'er,  in  furnace,  glass,  or  metal,  seen 
So  bright  and  glowing  red,  as  was  the  shape 
I  now  beheld.      "  If  ye  desire  to  mount," 
He  cried;  "  here  must  ye  turn.      This  way  he  goes 
Who  goes  in  quest  of  peace."      His  countenance 
Had  dazzled  me;   and  to  my  guides  I  faced 
Backward,  like  one  who  walks  as  sound  directs. 

As  when,  to  harbinger  the  dawn,  springs  up 
On  freshen'd  wing  the  air  of -May,  and  breathes 
Of  fragrance,  all  impregn'd  with  herb  and  flowers; 
E'en  such  a  wind  I  felt  upon  my  front 
Blow  gently,  and  the  moving  of  a  wing 
Perceived,  that,  moving,  shed  ambrosial  smell; 
And  then  a  voice :    "  Blessed  are  they,  whom  grace 
Doth  so  illume,  that  appetite  in  them 
Exhaleth  no  inordinate  desire. 
Still  hungering  as  the  rule  of  temperance  wills.** 


CANTO     XXV. 


A  P  u  U  M  E  N  T. 


Virgil  and  Statins  resolve  some  doubts  that  have  arisen  in  the  mind  of  Dante  from  what  he  had  just  seen.  They 
all  arrive  on  the  seventh  and  last  cornice,  where  the  sin  of  incontinence  is  purged  in  fire  ;  and  the  spirits  of 
those  suffering  therein  are  beard  to  record  illustrious  instances  of  chastity. 

T  T  was  an  hour,  when  he  who  climbs,  had  need 
-*■      To  walk  uncrippled :    for  the  sun    had  now 
To  Taurus  the  meridian  circle  left, 
And  to  the  Scorpion  left  the  night.      As  one, 
That  makes  no  pause,  but  presses  on  his  road, 
Whate'er  betide  him,  if  some  urgent  need 
Impel ;    so  enter'd  we    upon  our  way, 
One  before  other;    for,  but  singly,  none 
That  steep  and  narrow  scale  admits  to  climb. 

E'en  as  the  young  stork  lifteth  up  his  wing 
Through  wish  to  fly,  yet  ventures  not  to  quit 
The  nest,  and  drops  it ;   so  in  me  desire 
Of  questioning  my  guide  arose,  and  fell, 
Arriving  even  to  the  act  that  marks 
A  man  prepared  for  speech.      Him  all  our  haste 
Restrain'd  not;   but  thus  spake  the  sire  beloved: 
•'  Fear  not  to  speed  the  shaft,    that  on  thy  lip 
Stands  trembling  for  its  flight."      Encouraged  thus, 
I  straight  began :    "  How  there  can  leanness  come. 
Where  is  no  want  of  nourishment  to  feed  ?" 

"  If  thou,"  he  answer'd,  "  hadst  remember'd  thee, 
How  Meleager    with  the  wasting  brand 
"Wasted  alike,  by  equal  fires  consumed ; 
This  would  not  trouble  thee  :   and  hadst  thou  thought. 
How  in  the  mirror    your  reflected  form 


Here  the  rocky  precipice 
Hurls  forth  redundant  flamtrs;  and  from  the  rim 
A  blast  up-blown,  witii  forcible  rebufT 
Driveth  them  back,  sequester'd  from  its  bound. 

Canf<fXXr.. 


riun  from  the  bosom  of  the  biirnin<;  i 
"O  God  of  mercy  !"  licard  I  sung,  and  felt 
No  less  desire  to  turn. 


Canto  XXV.,  lines  ii 


I'U RGATOR v.— CANTO    XXV. 

With  mimic  motion  vibrates ;    what  now  seems 
Hard,  had  appear'd  no  harder  than  the  pulp 
Of  summer-fruit  mature.      But  that  thy  will 
In  certainty  may  find  its  full  repose, 
Lo  Statius  iicre  I    on  him  I  call,  and  pray 
That  he  would  now  be  healer  of  thy  wound." 

"  If,  in  thy  presence,  I  unfold  to  him 
The  secrets  of  heaven's  vengeance,  let  me  plead 
Thine  own  injunction  to  exculpate  me." 
So  Statius  answer'd,  and  forthwith  began  : 
"Attend  my  words,  O  son,  and  in  thy  mind 
Receive  them ;   so  shall  they  be  light  to  clear 
The  doubt  thou  offer'st.      Blood,  concocted  well, 
Which  by  the  thirsty  veins  is  ne'er  imbibed, 
And  rests  as  food  superfluous,  to  be  ta'en 
From  the  replenish'd  table,  in  the  heart 
Derives  effectual  virtue,  that  informs 
The  several  human  limbs,  as  being  that 
Which  passes  through  the  veins  itself  to  make  them. 
Yet  more  concocted  it  descends,  where  shame 
Forbids  to  mention  :   and  from  thence  distils 
In  natural  vessels  on  another's  blood. 
There  each  unite  together ;   one  disposed 
To  endure,  to  act  the  other,  through  that  power 
Derived  from  whence  it  came ;  .  and  being  met, 
It  'gins  to  work,  coagulating  first ; 
Then  vivifies  what  its  own  substance  made 
Consist.     With  animation  now  indued, 
The  active  virtue  (differing  from  a  plant 
No  further,  than  that  this  is  on  the  way, 
And  at  its  limit  that)  continues  yet 
To  operate,  that  now  it  moves,  and  feels. 
As  sea-sponge    clinging  to  the  rock:   and  there 
Assumes  the  organic  powers  its  seed  convey 'd. 
This  is  the  moment,  son  I   at  which  the  virtue, 
That  from  the  generating  heart  proceeds, 


114  'lUli    VISION.  62-97. 

Is  pliant  and  expansive  ;    for  each  limb 

Is  in  the  heart  by  forgeful  nature  plann'd. 

How  babe    of  animal  becomes,  remains 

For  thy  considering.      At  this  point,  more  wise, 

Than  thou,  has  err'd,    making  the  soul  disjoin'd 

From  passive  intellect,  because  he  saw 

No  organ   for  the  latter's  use  assign'd. 

"  Open  thy  bosom  to  the  truth  that  comes. 
Know,  soon  as  in  the  embryo,  to  the  brain 
Articulation  is  complete,  then  turns 
The  primal  Mover  with  a  smile  of  joy 
On  such  great  work  of  nature ;    and  imbreathes 
New  spirit  replete  with  virtue,  that  what  here 
Active  it  finds,  to  its  own  substance  draws: 
And  forms  an  individual  soul,  that  lives, 
And  feels,  and  bends  reflective  on  itself. 
And  that  thou  less  mayst  marvel  at  the  word, 
Mark  the  sun's  heat;    how  that  to  wine  doth  change, 
Mix'd  with  the  moisture  filter'd  through  the  vine. 

'*  When  Lachesis  hath  spun  the  thread,    the  soul 
Takes  with  her  both  the  human  and  divine. 
Memory,  intelligence,  and  will,  in  act 
Far  keener  than  before ;   the  other  powers 
Inactive  all  and  mute.      No  pause  allow'd. 
In  wondrous  sort  self-moving,  to  one  strand 
Of  those,  where  the  departed  roam,  she  falls : 
Here  learns  her  destined  path.      Soon  as  the  place 
Receives  her,  round  the  plastic  virtue  beams, 
Distinct  as  in  the  living  limbs  before: 
And  as  the  air,  when  saturate  with  showers, 
The  casual  beam  refracting,  decks  itself 
With  many  a  hue;   so  here  the  ambient  air 
Weareth  that  form,  which  influence  of  the  soul 
Imprints  on  it:   and  like  the  flame,  that  where 
The  fire  moves,  thither  follows ;   so,  henceforth, 
The  new  form  on  the  spirit  follows  still : 


98-, 33-  PURGATORY— CANTO    XXV.  1 15 

Hence  hath  it  semblance,  and  is  shadow  call'd, 

With  each  sense,  even  to  the  sight,  endued : 

Hence  speech  is  ours,  hence  laughter,  tears,  and  sighs, 

Which  thou  mayst  oft  have  witness'd  on  the  mount. 

The  obedient  shadow  fails  not  to  present 

Whatever  varying  passion  moves  within  us. 

And  this  the  cause  of  what  thou  marvel'st  at." 

Now  the  last  flexure  of  our  way  we  reach'd; 
And  to  the  right  hand  turning  other  care 
Awaits  us.      Here  the  rocky  precipice 
Hurls  forth  redundant  flames ;   and  from  the  rim 
A  blast  up-blown,  with  forcible  rebuff 
Driveth  them  back,  sequester'd  from  its  bound. 

Behoved  us,  one  by  one,  along  the  side. 
That  border'd  on  the  void,  to  pass ;   and  I 
Fear'd  on  one  hand  the  fire,  on  the  other  fear'd 
Headlong  to  fall:   when  thus  the  instructor  warn'd; 
"  Strict  rein  must  in  this  place  direct  the  eyes. 
A  little  swerving  and  the  way  is  lost." 

Then  from  the  bosom  of  the  burning  mass, 
"O  God  of  mercy  I"    heard  I  sung,  and  felt 
No  less  desire  to  turn.      And  when  I  saw 
opirits  along  the  flame  proceeding,  I 
Between  their  footsteps  and  mine  own  was  fain 
To  share  by  turns  my  view.      At  the  hymn's  close 
They  shouted  loud,  "  I  do  not  know  a  man  ;" 
Then  in  low  voice  again  took  up  the  strain  ; 
Which  once  more  ended,  "  To  the  wood,"  they  cned, 
"  Ran  Dian,  and  drave  forth  Callisto    stung 
With  Cytherea's  poison :"  then  return'd 
Unto  their  song ;   then  many  a  pair  extoll'd, 
Who  lived  in  virtue  chastely  and  the  bands 
Of  wedded  love.      Nor  from  that  task,  I  ween. 
Surcease  they;   whilesoe'er  the  scorching  fire 
Enclasps  them.      Of  such  skill  appliance  needs, 
To  medicine  the  wound  that  healeth  last 


CANTO      XXVI. 


ARGUMENT 

rhe  spirits  wonder  at  seeing  the  shadow  cast  by  the  body  of  Dante  on  the  flame  as  he  passes  it  This  moves  one 
of  them  to  address  him.  It  proves  to  be  Guido  Guinicelh,  the  Italian  poet,  who  points  out  to  him  the  spirit 
of  Arnault  Daniel,  the  Provencal,  with  whom  he  also  speaks. 

"\  1  fHILE    singly  thus  along  the  rim  we  walk'd. 

Oft  the  good  master  warn'd  me :    "  Look  thou  well. 
Avail  it  that  I  caution  thee."      The  sun 
Now  all  the  western  clime  irradiate  changed 
From  azure  tinct  to  white  ;   and,  as  I  pass'd, 
My  passing  shadow  made  the  umber'd  flame 
Burn  ruddier.      At  so  strange  a  sight  I  mark'd 
That  many  a  spirit  marvel'd  on  his  way. 

This  bred  occasion  first  to  speak  of  me. 
"  He  seems,"  said  they,  "  no  insubstantial   frame  :'* 
Then,  to  obtain  what  certainty  they  might, 
Stretch'd  towards  me.  careful  not  to  overpass 
The  burning  pale.      "  O  thou  !    who  followest 
The  others,  haply  not  more  slow  than  they, 
But  moved  by  reverence  ;   answer  me,  who  burn 
In  thirst  and  fire :   nor  I  alone,  but  these 
All  for  thine  answer  do  more  thirst,  than  doth 
Indian  or  yEthiop  for  the  cooling  stream. 
Tell  us,  how  is  it  that  thou  makest  thyself 
A  wall  against  the  sun,  as  thou  not  yet 
Into  the  inextricable  toils  of  death 

Hadst  enter'd  ?"      Thus  spake  one  :   and  I  had  straight 
Declared  me,  if  attention  had  not  turn'd 
To  new  appearance.      Meeting  these,  there  came, 
Midway  the  burning  path,  a  crowd,  on  whom 
Earnestly  gazing,  from  each  part  I  view 
The  shadows  all  press  forward,  severally 
Each  snatch  a  hasty  kiss,  and  then  away. 
E'en  so  the  emmets,  'mid  their  dusky  troops, 
Peer  closely  one  at  other,  to  spy  out 
Their  mutual  road  perchance,  and  how  they  thrive. 


And  when  I  saw 
Spirits  along  tlie  flame  proceeding,  I 
Between  their  footsteps  and  mine  own  was  fain 
To  share  by  turns  my  view. 

Canlo  XX l^. ,  / 


A  lady  young  and  beautiful,  I  dream'd, 
Was  passing  o'er  a  lea  ;  and,  as  she  came, 
Methought  I  saw  her  ever  and  anon 
Bending  to  cull  the  flowers. 

Can/o  XXV II..  lines  97-100 


32—67-  PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXVI.  II7 

That  friendly  greeting  parted,  ere  dispatch 
Of  the  first  onward  step,  from  either  tribe 
Loud  clamour  rises  :    those,  who  newly  come, 
Shout  "Sodom  and  Gomorrah  I"    these,  "The  cow 
Pasiphae  enter'd,  that  the  beast  she  woo'd 
Might  rush  unto  her  luxury."      Then  as  cranes, 
That  part  towards  the  Riphaean  mountains  fly, 
Part  towards  the  Lybic  sands,  these  to  avoid 
The  ice,  and  those  the  sun ;   so  hasteth  off 
One  crowd,  advances  the  other ;   and  resume 
Their  first  song,  weeping,  and  their  several  shout. 

Again  drew  near  my  side  the  very  same. 
Who  had  erewhile  besought  me ;   and  their  looks 
Mark'd  eagerness  to  listen.      I,  who  twice 
Their  will  had  noted,  spake :    "  O  spirits  I   secure, 
Whene'er  the  time  may  be,  of  peaceful  end ; 
My  limbs,  nor  crude,  nor  in  mature  old  age, 
Have  I  left  yonder :    here  they  bear  me,  fed 
With  blood,  and  sinew-strung.      That  I  no  more 
May  live  in  blindness,  hence  I  tend  aloft. 
There  is  a  dame  on  high,  who  wins  for  us 
This  grace,  by  which  my  mortal  through  your  realm 
I  bear.      But  may  your  utmost  wish  soon  meet 
Such  full  fruition,  that  the  orb  of  Heaven, 
Fullest  of  love,  and  of  most  ample  space, 
Receive  you  :    as  ye  tell  (upon  my  page 
Henceforth  to  stand  recorded)  who  ye  are; 
And  what  this  multitude,  that  at  your  backs 
Have  past  behind  us."     As  one,  mountain-bred, 
Rugged  and  clownish,  if  some  city's  walls 
He  chance  to  enter,  round  him  stares  agape. 
Confounded  and  struck  dumb  ;    e'en  such  appear'd 
Each  spirit.      But  when  rid  of  that  amaze 
(Not  long  the  inmate  of  a  noble  heart). 
He,  who  before  had  question'd,  thus  resumed : 
"  O  blessed  1   who,  for  death  preparing,  takest 


THE   VISION. 

Experience  of  our  limits,  in  thy  bark  ; 
Their  crime,  who  not  with  us  proceed,  was  that 
For  which,  as  he  did  triumph,  Caesar    heard 
The  shout  of  'queen,'  to  taunt  him.      Hence  their  cry 
Of  '  Sodom,'  as  they  parted  ;    to  rebuke 
Themselves,  and  aid  the  burning  by  their  shame. 
Our  sinning  was  Hermaphrodite  :    but  we, 
Because  the  law  of  human  kind  we  broke. 
Following  like  beasts  our  vile  concupiscence, 
Hence  parting  from  them,  to  our  own  disgrace 
Record  the  name  of  her,  by  whom  the  beast 
In  bestial  tire  was  acted.      Now  our  deeds 
Thou  know'st,  and  how  we  sinn'd.      If  thou  by  name 
Wouldst  haply  know  us,  time  permits  not  now 
To  tell  so  much,  nor  can  I.      Of  myself 
Learn  what  thou  wishest.      Guinicelli     I; 
Who  having  truly  sorrow'd  ere  my  last, 
Already  cleanse  me."     With  such  pious  joy, 
As  the  two  sons  upon  their  mother  gazed 
From  sad   Lycurgus    rescued  ;    such  my  joy 
(Save  that  I  more  repress'd  it)  when  I  heard 
From  his  own  lips  the  name  of  him  pronounced, 
Who  was  a  father  to  me.  and  to  those 
My  betters,  who  have  ever  used  the  sweet 
And  pleasant  rhymes  of  love.      So  nought  I  heard, 
Nor  spake ;    but  long  time  thoughtfully  I  went 
Gazing  on  him;    and,  only  for  the  fire, 
Approach'd  not  nearer.      When  my  eyes  were  fed 
By  looking  on  him ;   with  such  solemn  pledge, 
As  forces  credence,  I  devoted  me 
Unto  his  service  wholly.      In  reply 
He  thus  bespake  me:    "What  from  thee  I  hear 
Is  graved  so  deeply  on  my  mind,  the  waves 
Of  Lethe  shall  not  wash  it  off,  nor  make 
A  whit  less  lively.      But  as  now  thy  oath 
Has  seal'd  the  truth,  declare  what  cause  impels 
That  love,  which  both  thy  looks  and  speech  bewray." 
"  Those  dulcet  lays,"  I  answer'd ;  "  which,  as  long 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXVI.  H9 

As  of  our  tongue  the  beauty  does  not  fade, 
Shall  make  us  love  the  very  ink  that  traced  them." 
"  Brother  1"  he  cried,  and  pointed  at  the  shade 
Before  him,  "  there  is  one,  whose  mother  speech 
Doth  owe  to  him  a  fairer  ornament. 
He    in  love  ditties,  and  the  tales  of  prose, 
Without  a  rival  stands ;   and  lets  the  fools 
Talk  on,  who  think  the  songster  of  Limoges 
O'ertops  him.      Rumour  and  the  popular  voic*e 
They  look  to,  more  than  truth  ;    and  so  confirm 
Opinion,  ere  by  art  or  reason  taught. 
Thus  many  of  the  elder  time  cried  up 
Guittone,    giving  him  the  prize,  till  truth 
By  strength  of  numbers  vanquish'd.      If  thou  own 
So  ample  privilege,  as  to  have  gain'd 
Free  entrance  to  the  cloister,  whereof  Christ 
Is  Abbot  of  the  college;   say  to  him 
One  paternoster  for  me,  far  as  needs 
For  dwellers  in  this  world,  where  power  to  sin 
No  longer  tempts  us."      Haply  to  make  way 

For  one  that  follow'd  next,  when  that  was  said. 

He  vanish'd  through  the  fire,  as  through  the  wave 
A  fish,  that  glances  diving  to  the  deep. 

I,  to  the  spirit  he  had  shown  me,  drew 

A  little  onward,  and  besought  his  name, 

For  which  my  heart,  I  said,  kept  gracious  room. 

He  frankly  thus  began:    "Thy  courtesy 

So  wins  on  me,  I  have  nor  power  nor  will 

To  hide  me.      I  am  Arnault;   and  with  songs, 

Sorely  waymenting  for  my  folly  past, 

Thorough  this  ford  of  fire  I  wade,  and  see 

The  day,  I  hope  for,  smiling  in  my  view. 

I  pray  ye  by  the  worth  that  guides  ye  up 

Unto  the  summit  of  the  scale,  in  time 

Remember  ye  my  sufferings."      With  such  words 

He  disappear'd  in  the  refining  flame. 


CANTO     XXVII. 


ARGUMENT. 

angel  sends  them  forward  through  the  fire  to  the  last  ascent,  which  leads  to  the  terrestrial  Paradise,  situated 
on  the  summit  of  the  mountain.  They  have  not  proceeded  many  steps  on  their  way  upward,  when  the  fall  oi 
night  hinders  them  from  going  further ;  and  our  Poet,  who  has  lain  down  with  Virgil  and  Statius  to  rest, 
beholds  in  a  dream  two  females,  figuring  the  active  and  contemplative  life.  With  the  return  of  morning, 
they  reach  the  height ;  and  here  Virgil  gives  Dante  full  liberty  to  use  his  own  pleasure  and  judgment  in  the 
choice  of  his  way,  till  he  shall  meet  with   Beatrice. 

XT  OW  was  the  sun    so  station'd,  as  when  first 
^  ^       His  early  radiance  quivers  on  the  heights, 
Where  stream'd  his  Maker's  blood  ;    while  Libra  hangs 
Above  Hesperian  Ebro ;   and  new  fires, 
Meridian,  flash  on  Ganges'  yellow  tide. 

So  day  was  sinking,  when  the  angel  of  God 
Appear'd  before  us.      Joy  was  in  his  mien. 
Forth  of  the  flame  he  stood  upon  the  brink ; 
And  with  a  voice,  whose  lively  clearness  far 
Surpass'd  our  human,  "  Blessed    are  the  pure 
In  heart,"  he  sang .    then  near  him  as  we  came, 
"  Go  ye  not  further,  holy  spirits  I"   he  cried, 
"  Ere  the  fire  pierce  you:   enter  in;   and  list 
Attentive  to  the  song  ye  hear  from  thence." 

I,  when   I  heard  his  saying,  was  as  one 
Laid   in  the  grave.        My  hands  together  clasp'd, 
And  upward  stretching,  on  the  fire  I  look'd; 
And  busy  fancy  conjured  up  the  forms 
Erewhile  beheld  alive  consumed  in  flames. 

The  escorting  spirits  turn'd  with  gentle  looks 


PURGATORY.— CAN  ro    XXVII. 

Toward  me ;   and  the  Mantuan  spake :    "  My  son, 
Here  torment  thou  mayst  feel,  but  canst  not  death. 
Remember  thee,  remember  thee,  if  I 
Safe  e'en  on  Geryon  brought  thee;   now  I  come 
More  near  to  God,  wilt  thou  not  trust  me  now? 
Of  this  be  sure;   though  in  its  womb  that  flame 
A  thousand  years  contain'd  thee,  from  thy  head 
No  hair  should  perish.      If  thou  doubt  my  truth, 
Approach ;   and  with  thy  hands  thy  vesture's  hem 
Stretch  forth,  and  for  thyself  confirm  belief. 
Lay  now  all  fear,  oh  I    lay  all  fear  aside. 
Turn  hither,  and  come  onward  undismay'd." 

I  still,  though  conscience  urged,  no  step  advanced 

When  still  he  saw  me  fix'd  and  obstinate. 
Somewhat  disturb'd  he  cried:    "Mark  now,  my  son. 
From  Beatrice  thou  art  by  this  wall 
Divided."      As  at  Thisbe's  name  the  eye 
Of.Pyramus  was  open'd  (when  life  ebb'd 
Fast  from  his  veins),  and  took  one  parting  glance. 
While  vermeil    dyed  the  mulberry;  thus  I  turn'd 
To  my  sage  guide,  relenting,  when  I  heard 
The  name  that  springs  for  ever  in  my  breast. 

He  shook  his  forehead ;   and,  "  How  long,"  he  said, 
"Linger  we  now?"   then  smiled,  as  one  would  smile 
Upon  a  child  that  eyes  the  fruit  and  yields. 
Into  the  fire  before  me  then  he  walk'd ; 
And  Statins,  who  erewhile  no  little  space 
Had  parted  us,  he  pray'd  to  come  behind. 

I  would  have  cast  me  into  molten  glass 
To  cool  me,  when  I  enter'd  ;   so  intense 
Raged  the  conflagrant  mass.      The  sire  beloved, 
To  comfort  me,  as  he  proceeded,  still 
Of  Beatrice  talk'd.      "  Her  eyes,"  saith  he, 
"  E'en  now  I  seem  to  view,"      From  the  other  side 
A  voice,  that  sang,  did  guide  us;   and  the  voice 
Followmg,  with  heedful  ear,  we  issued  forth. 


TlIK    VISION. 

There  where  the  path  led  upward.     "  Come,"  ue  heard. 
«•  Come,  blessed  of  my  Father."      Such  the  sounds, 
That  hail'd  us  from  within  a  light,  which  shone 
So  radiant,  I  could  not  endure  the  view. 
••The  sun,"  it  added,  "hastes:   and  evening  comes. 
Delay  not:   ere  the  western  sky  is  hung 
With  blackness,  strive  ye  for  the  pass."     Our  way 
Upright  within  the  rock  arose,  and  faced 
Such  part  of  heaven,  that  from  before  my  steps 
The  beams  were  shrouded  of  the  sinking  sun. 
Nor  many  stairs  were  overpast,  when  now 
By  fading  of  the  shadow  we  perceived 
The  sun  behind  us  couch'd ;   and  ere  one  face 
Of  darkness  o'er  its  measureless  expanse 
Involved  the  horizon,  and  the  night  her  lot 
Held  individual,  each  of  us  had  made 
A  stair  his  pallet ;    not  that  will,  but  power, 
Had  fail'd  us,  by  the  nature  of  that  mount 
Forbidden  further  travel.      As  the  goats, 
That  late  have  skipt  and  wanton'd  rapidly 
Upon  the  craggy  cliffs,  ere  they  had  ta'en 
Their  supper  on  the  herb,  now  silent  lie 
And  ruminate  beneath  the  umbrage  brown, 
While  noon-day  rages;    and  the  goatherd  leans 
Upon  his  staff,  and  leaning  watches  them: 
And  as  the  swain,  that  lodges  out  all  night 
In  quiet  by  his  flock,  lest  beast  of  prey 
Disperse  them  :    even  so  all  three  abode, 
I  as  a  goat,  and  as  the  shepherds  they. 
Close  pent  on  either  side  by  shelving  rock. 

A  little  glimpse  of  sky  was  seen  above; 
Yet  by  that  little  I  beheld  the  stars. 
In  magnitude  and  lustre  shining  forth 
With  more  than  wonted  glory.      As  I  lay. 
Gazing  on  them,  and  in  that  fit  of  musing, 
Sleep  overcame  me,  sleep,  that  bringeth  oft 


89—128.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXVII.  123 

Tidings  of  future  hap.      About  the  hour, 

As  I  believe,  when  Venus  from  the  east 

First  lighten'd  on  the  mountain,  she  whose  orh 

Seems  alway  glowing  with  the  fire  of  love, 

A  lady  young  and  beautiful,  I  dream'd. 

Was  passing  o'er  a  lea ;   and,  as  she  came, 

Methought  I  saw  her  ever  and  anon 

Bending  to  cull  the  flowers;   and  thus  she  sang: 

**  Know  ye,  whoever  of  my  name  would  ask, 

That  I  am  Leah  :     for  my  brow  to  weave 

A  garland,  these  fair  hands  unwearied  ply. 

To  please  me    at  the  crystal  mirror,  here 

I  deck  me.      But  my  sister  Rachel,  she 

Before  her  glass  abides  the  livelong  day. 

Her  radiant  eyes  beholding,  charm'd  no  less, 

Than  I  with  this  delightful  task.      Her  joy 

In  contemplation,  as  in  labour  mine." 

And  now  as  glimmering  dawn  appear'd,  that  breaks 
More  welcome  to  the  pilgrim  still,  as  he 
Sojourns  less  distant  on  his  homeward  way, 
Darkness  from  all  sides  fled,  and  with  it  fled 
My  slumber;   whence  I  rose,  and  saw  my  guide 
Already  risen.      "That  delicious  fruit, 
Which  through  so  many  a  branch  the  zealous  care 
Of  mortals  roams  in  quest  of,  shall  this  day 
Appease  thy  hunger."      Such  the  words  I  heard 
From  Virgil's  lip ;   and  never  greeting  heard. 
So  pleasant  as  the  sounds.      Within  me  straight 
Desire  so  grew  upon  desire  to  mount, 
Thenceforward  at  each  step  I  felt  the  wings 
Increasing  for  my  flight.      When  we  had  run 
O'er  all  the  ladder  to  its  topmost  round. 
As  there  we  stood,  on  me  the  Mantuan  fix'd 
His  eyes,  and  thus  he  spake :    "  Both  fires,  my  son. 
The  temporal  and  eternal,  thou  hast  seen; 
And  art  arrived,  where  of  itself  my  ken 


124  THE   VISION. 

No  further  reaches.      I,  with  skill  and  art, 

Thus  far  have  drawn  thee.      Now  thy  pleasure  take 

For  guide.      Thou  hast  o'ercome  the  steeper  way, 

O'ercome  the  straiter.      Lol    the  sun,  that  darts 

His  beam  upon  thy  forehead  :    lo  I    the  herb, 

The  arborets  and  flowers,  which  of  itself 

This  land  pours  forth  profuse.      Till  those  bric^ht  eyes 

With  gladness  come,  which,  weeping,  made  me  haste 

To  succour  thee,  thou  mayst  or  seat  thee  down, 

Or  wander  where  thou  wilt.     Expect  no  more 

Sanction  of  warning  voice  or  sign  from  me. 

Free  of  thy  own  arbitrement  to  chuse. 

Discreet,  judicious.     To  distrust  thy  sense 

Were  henceforth  error.     I  invest  thee  then 

With  crown  ana  mitre,  sovereign  o'er  thyself." 


Already   had    my    steps, 
Though  slow,  so  far  into  that  ancient  wood 
Transported  me,  I    could  not  ken   the  place 
Where  I  had  enterd. 

Canio  XXl'lII.    lints  23-95. 


Beneath  a  sky 
So  beautiful,  came  four  and  twent)'  elders, 
By  two  and  two,  with  flower-de-luces  crown'd. 


Canio  A'.WA'. ,  lints  So-8a 


CANTO     XXVIIT. 


ARGUMENT. 

Dante  wanders  through  the  forest  of  the  terrestrial  Paradise,  till  he  b  stopped  by  a  stream,  on  the  other  side  of 
which  he  beholds  a  fair  lady,  culling  flowers.  He  speaks  to  her;  and  she,  in  reply,  explains  to  him  certain 
things  touching  the  nature  of  that  place,  and  tells  that  the  water,  which  flows  between  them,  i§  here  called 
Lethe   and  in  another  place  has  the  name  of  Eunoe. 

T^H ROUGH  that  celestial  forest,  whose  thick  shade 

-*-       With  lively  greenness  the  new-springing  day 
Attemper'd,  eager  now  to  roam,  and  search 
Its  limits  round,  forthwith  T  left  the  bank; 
Along  the  champain  leisurely  my  way 
Pursuing,  o'er  the  ground,  that  on  all  sides 
Delicious  odour  breathed.      A  pleasant  air, 
That  intermitted  never,  never  veer'd, 
Smote  on  my  temples,  gently,  as  a  wind 
Of  softest  influence  :    at  which  the  sprays, 
Obedient  all,  lean'd  trembling  to  that  part 
Where  first  the  holy  mountain  casts  his  shade ; 
Yet  were  not  so  disorder'd,  but  that  still 
Upon  their  top  the  feather'd  quiristers 
Applied  their  wonted  art,  and  with  full  joy 
Welcomed  those  hours  of  prime,  and  warbled  shrill 
Amid  the  leaves,  that  to  their  jocund  lays 
Kept  tenour ;   even  as  from  branch  to  branch, 
Along  the  piny  forests  on  the  shore 
Of  Chiassi,    rolls  the  gathering  melody, 


J  ,6  THr.   VISION. 

When   Fiolus  hath  from  his  cavern  loosed 
The  dripping  south.      Already  had  my  steps. 
Though  slow,  so  far  into  that  ancient  wood 
Transported  me,  I  could  not  ken  the  place 
Where  1  had  enter'd  ;    when,  behold  !    my  path 
Was  bounded  by  a  rill,  which,  to  the  left, 
With  little  rippling  waters  bent  the  grass 
That  issued  from  its  brink.      On  earth  no  wa\e, 
How  clean  soe'er,  that  would  not  seem  to  have 
Some  mixture  in  itself,  compared  with  this. 
Transpicuous  clear;   yet  darkly  on  it  roll'd, 
Darkly  beneath  perpetual  gloom,  which  ne'er 
Admits  or  sun  or  moon-light  there  to  shine. 

My  feet  advanced  not;   but  my  wondering  eyes 
Pass'd  onward,  o'er  the  streamlet,  to  survey 
The  tender  may-bloom,  flush'd  through  many  a  hue, 
In  prodigal  variety  :    and,  there, 
As  object,  rising  suddenly  to  view, 
That  from  our  bosom  every  thought  beside 
With  the  rare  marvel  chases,   I  beheld 
A  lady    all  alone,  who,  singing,  went. 
And  culling  flower  from  flower,  wherewith  her  way 
Was  all  o'er  painted.      "  Lady  beautiful  I 
Thou,  who  (if  looks,  that  use  to  speak  the  heart, 
Are  worthy  of  our  trust)  with  love's  own  beam 
Dost  warm  thcc,"  thus  to  her  my  speech   I   franud  ; 
"Ah!    please  thee  hither  towards  the  streamlet  bend 
Thy  steps  so  near,  that  I  may  list  thy  song. 
Beholding  thee  and  this  fair  place,  methinks, 
1  call  to  mind  where  wander'd  and  how  look'd 
■  Proserpine,  in  that  season,  when  her  child 
The  mother  lost,  and  she  the  bloomy  spring." 

As  when  a  lady,  turning  in  the  dance, 
Doth  foot  it  featly,  and  advances  scarce 
One  step  before  the  other  to  the  ground; 


_56-9i.  PURGATORY.— CANTO   XXVIII.  127 

Over  the  yellow  and  vermilion  flowers 

Thus  turn'd  she  at  my  suit,  most  maiden-like, 

Valing  her  sober  eyes;    and  came  so  near, 

That  I  distinctly  caught  the  dulcet  sound. 

Arriving  where  the  limpid  waters  now 

Laved  the  green  svverd,  her  eyes  she  deign'd  to  raise. 

That  shot  such  splendour  on  me,  as  I  ween 

Ne'er  glanced  from  Cytherea's,  when  her  son 

Had  sped  his  keenest  weapon  to  her  heart. 

Upon  the  opposite  bank  she  stood  and  smiled; 

As  through  her  graceful  fingers  shifted  still 

The  intermingling  dyes,  which  without  seed 

That  lofty  land  unbosoms.      By  the  stream 

Tliree  paces  only  were  we  sunder'd  :    yet, 

The  Hellespont,  were  Xerxes  pass'd  it  o'er 

(A  curb  for  ever    to  the  pride  of  man), 

Was  by  Leander  not  more  hateful,  held 

For  floating,  with  inhospitable  wave, 

'Twixt  Sestus  and  Abydos,  than  by  me 

That  flood,  because  it  gave  no  passage  thence. 

"  Strangers  ye  come ;   and  haply  in  this  place, 
That  cradled  human  nature  in  her  birth. 
Wondering,  ye  not  without  suspicion  view 
My  smiles  :    but  that  sweet  strain  of  psalmody, 
'Thou,  Lord  I    hast  made  me  glad,'    will  give  ye  light, 
Which  may  uncloud  your  minds.      And  tliou,  who  stand'st 
The  foremost,  and  didst  make  thy  suit  to  me. 
Say  if  aught  else  thou  wish  to  hear  :    for  I 
Came  prompt  to  answer  every  doubt  of  thine." 

She  spake ;   and  I  replied  :    "  I  know  not  how 
To  reconcile  this  wave,    and  rustling  sound 
Of  forest  leaves,  with  what  I  late  have  heard 
Of  opposite  report."      She  answering  thus  : 
*'  I  will  unfold  the  cause,  whence  that  proceeds. 
Which  makes  thee  wonder;    and  so  purge  the  cloud 
That  hath  enwrapt  thee.      The  First  Good,  whose  joy 


128  THE   VISION. 

Is  only  in  himself,  created  man, 

For  happiness;   and  gave  this  goodly  place, 

His  pledge  and  earnest  of  eternal  peace. 

Favour'd  thus  highly,  through  his  own  defect 

He  fell ;   and  here  made  short  sojourn  ;    he  fell, 

And,  for  the  bitterness  of  sorrow,  changed 

Laughter  unblamed  and  ever-new  delight. 

That  vapours  none,  exhaled  from  earth  beneath, 

Or  from  the  waters  (which,  wherever  heat 

Attracts  them,  follow),  might  ascend  thus  far 

To  vex  man's  peaceful  state,  this  mountain  rose 

So  high  toward  the  heaven,  nor  fears  the  rage 

Of  elements  contending;     from  that  part 

Exempted,  where  tnv.  g^t?  his  11  in  it  bars 

Because,  the  circumambient  air,  throughout, 

With  its  first  impulse  circles  still,  unless 

Aught  interpose  t6  check  or  thwart  its  course; 

Upon  the  summit,  which  on  every  side 

To  visitation  of  the  impassive  air 

Is  open,  doth  that  motion  strike,  and  makes 

Beneath  its  sway  the  umbrageous  wood  resound : 

And  in  the  shaken  plant  such  power  resides. 

That  it  impregnates  with  its  efficacy 

The  voyaging  brecic,  upon  whose  subtle  }^lume 

That,  wafted,  flies  abroad  ;   and  the  other  land, 

Receiving  (as  'tis  worthy  in  itself, 

Or  in  the  clime  that  warms  it),  doth  conceive ; 

And  from  its  womb  produces  many  a  tree 

Of  various  virtue.      This  when  thou  hast  heard, 

The  marvel  ceases,  if  in  yonder  earth 

Some  plant,  without  apparent  seed,  be  found 

To  fix  its  fibrous  stem.      And  further  learn, 

That  with  prolific  foison  of  all  seeds 

This  holy  plain  is  fill'd,  and  in  itself 

Bears  fruit  that  ne'er  was  pluck'd  on  other  soil. 

"The  water,  thou  behold'st,  springs  not  from  vein, 


[28-153.  PURGATORY.— CANTO   XXVIII.  lag 

Kestored  by  vapour,  that  the  cold  converts ; 

As  stream  that  intcnnittently  repairs 

And  spends  his  pulse  of  life ;   but  issues  forth 

From  fountain,  solid,  undecaying,  sure: 

And,  by  the  will  omnific,  full  supply 

Feeds  whatsoe'er  on  either  side  it  pours ; 

On  this,  devolved  with  power  to  take  away 

Remembrance  of  offence  ;   on  that,  to  bring 

Remembrance  back  of  every  good  deed  done. 

From  whence  its  name  of  Lethe  on  this  part; 

On  the  other,  Eunoe :    both  of  which  must  first 

Be  tasted,  ere  it  work  ;    the  last  exceeding 

All  flavours  else.     Albeit  thy  thirst  may  now 

Be  well  contented,  if  I  here  break  off, 

No  more  revealing ;    yet  a  corollary 

I  freely  give  beside :    nor  deem  my  words 

Less  grateful  to  thee,  if  they  somewhat  pass 

The  stretch  of  promise.     They,  whose  verse  of  yore 

The  golden  age  recorded  and  its  bliss. 

On  the  Parnassian  mountain,    of  this  place 

Perhaps  had  dream'd.     Here  was  man  guiltless;   here 

Perpetual  spring,    and  every  fruit ;   and  this 

The  far-famed  nectar."     Turning  to  the  bards, 

When  she  had  ceased,  I  noted  in  their  looks 

A  smile  at  her  conclusion  ;   then  my  face 

Again  directed  to  the  lovely  dame 


CANTO     XXIX, 


ARGUMENT. 
Th»  lady,  who  in  a  following  canto  is  called    Matilda,  moves  along   the   side  of  the  sUeam  in  a  contrary  dlrectioB 
to  the  current,  and   Dante  keeps  equal  pace  with   her  on  the  opposite   bank.     A  marvellous  sight,  preceded  by 
IBMC,  appears  in  view. 

0  INGING,    as  if  enamour'd,  she  resumed 

*^     And  closed  the  song,  with  "  Blessed  they  whose  sins 

Are  cover'd."      Like  the  wood-nymphs  then,  that  tripp'd 

Singly  across  the  sylvan  shadows ;   one 

Eager  to  view,  and  one  to  escape  the  sun ; 

So  moved  she  on,  against  the  current,  up 

The  verdant  rivage.     I,  her  mincing  step 

Observing,  with  as  tardy  step  pursued. 

Between  us  not  an  hundred  paces  trod, 
The  bank,  on  each  side  bending  equally, 
Gave  me  to  face  the  orient.     Nor  our  way 
Far  onward  brought  us,  when  to  me  at  once 
She  turn'd,  and  cried :    "  My  brother  I    look,  and  hearken." 
And  lol   a  sudden  lustre  ran  across 
Through  the  great  forest  on  all  parts,  so  bright, 

1  doubted  whether  lightning  were  abroad ; 
But  that,  expiring  ever  in  the  spleen 
That  doth  unfold  it,  and  this  during  still. 

And  waxing  still  in  splendour,  made  me  question 

What  it  might  be :   and  a  sweet  melody 

Ran  through  the  luminous  air.     Then  did  I  chide, 

W^itb  warrantable  zeal,  the  hardihood 

Of  our  first  parent;    for  that  there,  where  earth 

Stood  in  obedience  to  the  heavens,  she  only, 

Woman,  the  creature  of  an  hour,  endured  not 

Restraint  of  any  veil,  which  had  she  borne 

Devoutly,  joys,  ineffable  as  these. 

Had  from  the  first,  and  long  time  since,  been  mine. 


29—^3  PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXIX.  131 

While,  through  that  wilderness  of  primy  sweets 
That  never  fade,  suspense  I  vvalk'd,  and  yet 
Expectant  of  beatitude  more  high ; 
Before  us,  like  a  blazing  fire,  the  air 
Under  the  green  boughs  glow'd ;   and,  for  a  song, 
Distinct  the  sound  of  melody  was  heard. 

0  ye 'thrice  holy  virgins  I    for  your  sakes 
If  e'er  I  suffer'd  hunger,  cold,  and  watching. 
Occasion  calls  on  me  to  crave  your  bounty. 
Now  through  my  breast  let  Helicon  his  stream 
Pour  copious,  and  Urania     with  her  choir 
Arise  to  aid  me ;   while  the  verse  unfolds 
Things,  that  do  almost  mock  the  grasp  of  thought. 

Onward  a  space,  what  seem'd  seven  trees  of  gold 
The  intervening  distance  to  mine  eye 
Falsely  presented  ;   but,  when  I  was  come 
So  near  them,  that  no  lineament  was  lost 
Of  those,  with  which  a  doubtful  object,  seen 
Remotely,  plays  on  the  misdeeming  sense; 
Then  did  the  faculty,  that  ministers 
Discourse  to  reason,  these  for  tapers  of  gold 
Distinguish  ;   and  i'  the  singing  trace  tlie  sound 
"  Hosanna."     Above,  their  beauteous  garniture 
Flamed  with  more  ample  lustre,  than  the  moon 
Through  cloudless  sky  at  midnight,  in  her  noon. 

1  turn'd  me,  full  of  wonder,  to  my  guide ; 
ySnd  he  did  answer  with  a  countenance 

Charged  with  no  less  amazement :    whence  my  view 
Reverted  to  those  lofty  things,  which  came 
So  slowly  moving  towards  us,  that  the  bride 
Would  have  outstript  them  on  her  bridal  day. 

The  lady  call'd  aloud  :  "  Why  thus  yet  burns 
Affection  in  thee  for  these  living  lights. 
And  dost  not  look  on  that  which  follows  them?" 

I  straightway  mark'd  a  tribe  behind  them  walk, 


"32  THE    VISION'. 

As  if  attendant  on  their  leaders,  clothed 
With  raiment  of  such  whiteness,  as  on  earth 
Was  never.     On  my  left,  the  watery  gleam 
Borrow'd,  and  gave  me  back,  when  there  I   look'd, 
As  in  a  mirror,  my  left  side  portray'd. 

When   I  had  chosen  on  the  river's  edge 
3uch  station,  that  the  distance  of  the  stream 
Alone  did  separate  me ;    there  I  stay'd 
My  steps  for  clearer  prospect,  and  beheld 
The  flames  go  onward,  leaving,    as  they  went, 
The  air  behind  them  painted  as  with  trail 
Of  liveliest  pencils;     so  distinct  were  mark'd 
All  those  seven  listed  colours,    whence  the  sun 
Maketh  his  bow,  and  Cynthia  her  zone. 
These  streaming  gonfalons  did  flow  beyond 
My  vision  ;   and  ten  paces,    as  I  guess, 
Parted  the  outermost.      Beneath  a  sky 
So  beautiful,  came  four  and  twenty  elders. 
By  two  and  two,  with  flower-de-luces  crown'd. 
All  sang  one  song :  "  Blessed  be  thou    among 
The  daughters  of  Adam  I  and  thy  loveliness 
Blessed  for  ever!"     After  that  the  flowers, 
And  the  fresh  herblets,  on  the  opposite  brink, 
Were  free  from  that  elected  race ;   as  light 
In  heaven  doth  second  light,  came  after  them 
Four    animals,  each  crown'd  with  verdurous  leaf. 
With  six  wings  each  was  plumed;   the  plumage  full 
Of  eyes;  and  the  eyes  of  Argus  would  be  such, 
Were  they  endued  with  life.      Reader!  more  rhymes 
I  will  not  waste  in  shadowing  forth  their  form  : 
For  other  need  so  straitens,  that  in  this 
I  may  not  give  my  bounty  room.      But  read 
Ezekiel ;    for  he  paints  them,  from  the  north 
How  he  beheld  them  come  by  Chebar's  flood. 
In  whirlwind,  cloud,  and  fire ;  and  even  such 
As  thou  shalt  find  them  character'd  by  him. 


64—70. 


The  one  si^i  rudd}',  that  her  form  had  scarce 
Been  known  within  a  furnace  of  clear  flame; 
The  next  did  look,  as  if  the  flesh  and  bones 
VV^ere  emerald  :    snow  new-fallen  seem'd  the  third. 


Canto  XXIX.,  lintt  IlS-ISI. 


A  virgin   in  my  view  appear'tl,  beneath 
Green   mantle,  robed  in   luie  of  living  flame. 


.V.V.V.,  liiifs  32,  33. 


71—135-  PURGATORY.— CANTO   XXIX.  133. 

Here  were  they ;  save  as  to  the  pennons  :  there, 
From  him  departing,  John     accords  with  mc. 

The  space,  surrounded  by  the  four,  enclosed 
A  car  triumphal :    on  two  wheels  it  came, 
Drawn  at  a  Gryphon's     neck  ;  and  he  above 
Stretch'd  either  wing  uplifted,  'tween  the  midst 
And  the  three  listed  hues,  on  each  side,  three; 
So  that  the  wings  did  cleave  or  injure  none ; 
And  out  of  sight  they  rose.      The  members,  far 
As  he  was  bird,  were  golden  ;  white  the  rest. 
With  vermeil  intervein'd.      So  beautiful 
A  car,  in  Rome,  ne'er  graced  Augustus'  pomp. 
Or  Africanus' ;   e'en  the  sun's  itself 
Were  poor  to  this ;    that  chariot  of  the  sun, 
Erroneous,  which  in  blazing  ruin  fell 
At  Tellus'  prayer    devout,  by  the  just  doom 
Mysterious  of  all-seeing  Jove.      Three  nymphs. 
At  the  right  wheel,  came  circling  in  smooth  dance: 
The  one  so  ruddy,  that  her  form  had  scarce 
Been  known  within  a  furnace  of  clear  flame  ; 
The  next  did  look,  as  if  the  flesh  and  bones 
Were  emerald ;   snow  new-fallen  seem'd  the  third. 
Now  seem'd  the  white  to  lead,  the  ruddy  now; 
And  from  her  song  who  led,  the  others  took 
Their  measure,  swift  or  slow.      At  the  other  wheel, 
A  band  quaternion,    each  in  purple  clad, 
Advanced  with  festal  step,  as,  of  them,  one 
The  rest  conducted  ;     one,  upon  whose  front 
Three  eyes  were  seen.      In  rear  of  all  this  group, 
Two  old  men     I  beheld,  dissimilar 
In  raiment,  but  in  port  and  gesture  like. 
Solid  and  mainly  grave  ;   of  whom,  the  one 
Did  show  himself  some  favour'd  counsellor 
Of  the  great  Coan,    him,  whom  nature  made 
To  serve  the  costliest  creature  of  her  tribe  : 
His  fellow  mark'd  an  opposite  intent; 


134  THE   VISION.  136—150. 

Bearing  a  sword,  whose  glitterance  and  keen  edge, 
E'en  as  I  view'd  it  with  the  flood  between, 
Appall'd  me.     Next,  four  others     I  beheld 
Of  humble  seeming:    and,  behind  them  all. 
One  single  old  man,    sleeping  as  he  came, 
With  a  shrewd  visage.     And  these  seven,  each 
Like  the  first  troop  were  habited  ;    but  wore 
No  braid  of  lilies  on  their  temples  wreathed. 
Rather,  with  roses  and  each  vermeil  flower, 
A  sight,  but  little  distant,  might  have  sworn, 
That  they  were  all  on  fire     above  their  brow. 

Whenas  the  car  was  o'er  against  me,  straight 
Was  heard  a  thundering,  at  whose  voice  it  seem'd 
The  chosen  multitude  were  stay'd ;    for  there, 
With  the  first  ensigns,  made  they  solemn  halt 


CANTO      XXX. 


ARGUMENT. 
Beatrice  descends  from  heaven,  and  rebukes  the  poet 

OOON  as  that  polar  light,    fair  ornament 

*^     Of  the  first  heaven,  which  hath  never  known 

Setting  nor  rising,  nor  the  shadowy  veil 

Of  other  cloud  than  sin,  to  duty  there 

Each  one  convoying,  as  that  lower  doth 

The  steersman  to  his  port,  stood  firmly  fixed  ; 

Forthwith  the  saintly  tribe,  who  in  the  van 

Between  the  Gryphon  and  its  radiance  came, 

Did  turn  them  to  the  car,  as  to  their  rest: 

And  one,  as  if  commission'd  from  above, 

In  holy  chant  thrice  shouted  forth  aloud; 

"Come,  spouse!    from  Libanus  :"     and  all  the  rest 

Took  up  the  song. — At  the  last  audit,  so 

The  blest  shall  rise,  from  forth  his  cavern  each 

Uplifting  lightly  his  new-vested  flesh; 

As,  on  the  sacred  litter,  at  the  voice 

Authoritative  of  that  elder,  sprang 

A  hundred  ministers  and  messengers 

Of  life  eternal.     "Blessed     thou,  who  comest!" 

And,   "Oh  I"   they  cried,  "from  full  hands     scat!>  r 

Unwithering  lilies:"    and,  so  saying,  cast 

Flowers  over  head  and   round  tiicm  on  all  sides. 

I  have  beheld,  ere  now,  at  break  of  day. 
The  eastern  clime  all  roseate;    and  the  sky 
Opposed,  one  deep  and  beautiful  serene; 
And  the  sun's  face  so  shaded,  and  with  mists 


136  THE   VISION.  27—62. 

Attemper'd,  at  his  rising,  that  the  eye 

Lone^  while  endured  the  sight :    thus,  in  a  cloud 

Of  llowers,     that  from  those  hands  angelic  rose, 

And  down  within  and  outside  of  the  car 

Fell  showering,  in  white  veil  with  olive  wreathed, 

A  virgin  in  my  view  appear'd,  beneath 

Green  mantle,  robed  in  hue  of  living  flame: 

And     o'er  my  spirit,  that  so  long  a  time 

Had  from  her  presence  felt  no  shuddering  dread, 

Albeit  mine  eyes  discern'd  her  not,  there  mo\'cd 

A  hidden  virtue  from  her,  at  whose  touch 

The  power  of  ancient  love     was  strong  within   mo. 

No  sooner  on  my  vision  streaming,  smote 
The  heavenly  influence,  which,  years  past,  and  e'en 
In  childhood,  thrill'd  me,  than  towards  Virgil   I 
Turn'd  me  to  leftward  ;    panting,  like  a  babe, 
That  flees  for  refuge  to  his  mother's  breast, 
If  aught  have  terrified  or  work'd  him  woe  : 
And  would  have  cried,  "  There  is  no  dram  of  blood, 
That  doth  not  quiver  in  me.     The  old  flame 
Throws  out  clear  tokens  of  reviving  fire." 
But  Virgil  had  bereaved  us  of  himself; 
Virgil,  my  best-loved  father ;   Virgil,  he 
To  whom  I  gave  me  up  for  safety:    nor 
All,  our  prime  mother  lost,  avail'd  to  save 
My  undew'd  cheeks  from  blur  of  soiling  tears. 

"  Dante  I   weep  not  that  Virgil  leaves  thee  ;    nay 
Weep  thou  not  yet :    behoves  thee  feel  the  edge 
Of  other  sword  ;    and  thou  shalt  weep  for  that." 

As  to  the  prow  or  stern,  some  admiral 
Paces  the  deck,  inspiriting  his  crew, 
When  'mid  the  sail-yards  all  hands  ply  aloof; 
Thus,  on  the  left  side  of  the  car,  I  saw 
(Turning  me  at  the  sound  of  mine  own  name. 
Which  here  I  am  compell'd  to  register) 
The  virgin  station'd,  who  before  appear'd 


63—98.  PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXX.  13; 

Veil'd  in  that  festive  shower  angelical. 

Towards  me,  across  the  stream,  she  bent  her  eyes; 
Though  from  her  brow  the  veil  descending,  bound 
With  foliage  of  Minerva,  suffer'd  not 
That  I  beheld  her  clearly  :    then  with  act 
Full  royal,  still  insulting  o'er  her  thrall, 
Added,  as  one  who,  speaking,  keepeth  back 
The  bitterest  saying,  to  conclude  the  speech  : 
"  Observe  me  well.     I  am,  in  sooth,  I  am 
Beatrice.     What !    and  hast  thou  deign'd  at  last 
Approach  the  mountain?     Knewest  not,  O  manl 
Thy  happiness  is  here?"     Down  fell  mine  eyes 
On  the  clear  fount ;   but  there,  myself  espying, 
Recoil'd,  and  sought  the  greenswerd  ;    such  a  weight 
Of  shame  was  on  my  forehead.     With  a  mien 
Of  that  stern  majesty,  which  doth  surround 
A  mother's  presence  to  her  awe-struck  child. 
She  look'd ;   a  flavour  of  such  bitterness 
Was  mingled  in  her  pity.     There  her  words 
Brake  off-;   and  suddenly  the  angels  sang, 
"In  thee,  O  gracious  Lord  1  my  hope  hath  been:" 
But    went  no  further  than,  "Thou,  Lord  I  hast  set 
My  feet  in  ample  room."      As  snow,  that  lies. 
Amidst  the  living  rafters    on  the  back 
Of  Italy,  congeal'd,  when  drifted  high 
And  closely  piled  by  rough  Sclavonian  blasts; 
Breathe  but  the  land  whereon  no  shadow  falls, 
And  straightway  melting  it  distils  away, 
Like  a  fire-wasted  taper:  thus  was  I, 
Without  a  sigh  or  tear,  or  ever  these 
Did  sing,  that,  with  the  chiming  of  heaven's  sphere. 
Still  in  their  warbling  chime:    but  when  the  strain 
Of  dulcet  symphony  express'd  for  me 
Their  soft  compassion,  more  than  could  the  words, 
"  Virgin!   why  so  consumest  him?"  then,  the  ice, 
Congeal'd  about  my  bosom,  turn'd  itself 


138  THE    VISION. 

To  spirit  and  water  ;   and  with  anguish  forth 
Gush'd,  through  the  lips  and  eyelids,  from  the  heart. 

Upon  the  chariot's  same  edge    still  she  stood, 
Immovable;   and  thus  address'd  her  words 
To  those  bright  semblances  with  pity  touch'd : 
"  Ye  in  the  eternal  day  your  vigils  keep ; 
So  that  nor  night  nor  slumber,  with  close  stealth, 
Conveys  from  you  a  single  step,  in  all 
The  goings  on  of  time:    thence,  with  more  heed 
I  shape  mine  answer,  for  his  car  intended. 
Who  there  stands  weeping;   that  the  sorrow  now 
May  equal  the  transgression.      Not  alone 
Through  operation  of  the  mighty  orbs, 
Thai  mark  each  seed  to  some  predestined  aim, 
As  with  aspect  or  fortunate  or  ill 
The  constellations  meet;    but  through  benign 
Largess  of  heavenly  graces,  which  rain  down 
From  such  a  height  as  mocks  our  vision,  this  man 
Was,  in  the  freshness  of  his  being,    such. 
So  gifted  virtually,  that  in  him 
All  better  habits  wondrously  had  thrived. 
The  more  of  kindly  strength  is  in  the  soil. 
So  much  doth  evil  seed  and  lack  of  cultine 
Mar  it  the  more,  and  make  it  run   lo  wiklncss. 
These  looks  sometime  upheld  him  ;    for  1   show'd 
My  youthful  eyes,  and  led  him  by  their  light 
In  upright  walking.      Soon  as  1  had  reach'd 
The  threshold  of  my  second  age,    and  changed 
My  mortal  for  immortal ;    then  he  left  me, 
And  gave  himself  to  others.      When  from  flesh 
To  spirit  I  had  risen,  and  increase 
Of  beauty  and  of  virtue  circled  me, 
I  was  less  dear  to  him,  and  valued  less. 
His  steps  were  turn'd  into  deceitful  ways, 
Following  false  images  of  good,  that  make 
No  promise  perfect.      Nor  avail'd  me  aught 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXX.  139 

To  sue  for  inspirations,  with  the  which, 

I,  both  in  dreams  of  night,  and  otherwise, 

Did  call  him  back  ;   of  them,  so  little  reck'd  him. 

Such  depth  he  fell,  that  all  device  was  short 

Of  his  preserving,  save  that  he  should  view 

The  children  of  perdition.      To  this  end 

I  visited  the  purlieus  of  the  dead: 

And  one,  who  hath  conducted  him  thus  high, 

Received  my  supplications  urged  with  weeping. 

It  were  a  breaking  of  God's  high  decree. 

If  Lethe  should  be  past,  and  such  food    tasted, 

Without  the  cost  of  some  repentant  tear." 


CANTO      XXXI. 


ARGUMENT. 

Beatnce  continues  her  reprehension  of  Dante,  who  confesses  his  error,  and  falls  to  the  ^ound.  Coming  to  himself 
again,  he  is  by  Matild.t  drawn  through  the  waters  of  Lethe,  and  presented  first  to  the  four  virgins  who  figure  the 
cardinal  virtues ;  these  in  their  turn  lead  hira  to  the  Gr>phon,  a  symbol  of  our  Saviour ;  and  the  three  virgins 
representing  the  evangelical  virtues  intercede  for  him  with  Beatrice,  that  she  would  display  to  him  her  second 
beauty. 

"  /^   THOU  I "   her  words  she  thus  without  delay 
^-^      Resuming,  turn'd  their  point  on  me,  to  whom 
They,  with  but  lateral  edge,    seeni'd  harsh  before: 
"  Say  thou,  who  stand'st  beyond  the  holy  stream, 
If  this  be  true.     A  charge,  so  grievous,  needs 
Thine  own  avowal."     On  my  faculty 
Such  strange  amazement  hung,  the  voice  expired 
Imperfect,  ere  its  organs  gave  it  birth. 

A  little  space  refraining,  then  she  spake  : 
"  What  dost  thou  muse  on  ?   Answer  me.     The  wave 
On  thy  remembrances  of  evil  yet 
Hath  done  no  injury."     A  mingled  sense 
Of  fear  and  of  confusion,  from  my  lips 
Did  such  a  "  Yea  "  produce,  as  needed  help 
Of  vision  to  interpret.     As  when  breaks. 
In  act  to  be  discharged,  a  cross-bow  bent 
Beyond  its  pitch,  both  nerve  and  bow  o'erstretch'd ; 
The  flagging  weapon  feebly  hits  the  mark  : 
Thus,  tears  and  sighs  forth  gushing,  did  I  burst, 
Beneath  the  heavy  load  :    and  thus  my  voice 
Was  slacken'd  on  its  way.     She  straight  began : 
"When  my  desire  invited  thee  to  love 
The  good,  which  sets  a  bound  to  our  aspirings; 
What  bar  of  thwarting  foss  or  linked  chain 
Did  meet  thee,  that  thou  so  shouldst  quit  the  hope 


The   beauteous  dame,   her  arms  expanding,  clasp'd 
My  temples,  and  immerged  me  where  'twas  fit 
The  waves  should  drench  me. 

Canto  XXXI.,  lines  lOO-IOJ. 


At   her  side, 
As  't   were  that   none  mif^ht   bear  her  off,  I   saw 
A  giant  Stan. I  ;  and  over  and  anon 
Ihey  mingled   kisses. 

Canto  XXXII. 


26-61.  PURGATORY.-CANTO    XXXI. 

Of  further  progress?  or  what  bait  of  ease, 

Or  promise  of  allurement,  led  thee  on 

Elsewhere,  that  thou  elsewhere  shouldst  rather  wait?" 

A  bitter  sigh  I  drew,  then  scarce  found  voice 
To  answer;   hardly  to  these  sounds  my  lips 
Gave  utterance,  wailing:    "Thy  fair  looks  withdrawn. 
Things  present,  with  deceitful  pleasures,  turn'd 
My  steps  aside."     She  answering  spake :    "  Hadst  thou 
Been  silent,  or  denied  what  thou  avow'st. 
Thou  hadst  not  hid  thy  sin  the  more;   such  eye 
Observes  it.     But  whene'er  the  sinner's  cheek 
Breaks  forth  into  the  precious-streaming  tears 
Of  self-accusing,  in  our  court  the  wheel 
Of  justice  doth  run  counter  to  the  edge. 
Howe'er,  that  thou  mayst  profit  by  thy  shame 
For  errors  past,  and  that  henceforth  more  strenj;:^th 
May  arm  thee,  when  thou  hear'st  the  Syren-voice; 
Lay  thou  aside  the  motive  to  this  grief, 
And  lend  attentive  ear,  while  I  unfold 
How  opposite  a  way  my  buried  flesh 
Should  have  impell'd  thee.     Never  didst  thou  spy, 
In  art  or  nature,  aught  so  passing  sweet. 
As  were  the  limbs  that  in  their  beauteous  frame 
Enclosed  me,  and  are  scatter'd  now  in  dust. 
If  sweetest  thing  thus  fail'd  thee  with  my  death, 
What,  afterward,  of  mortal,  should  thy  wish 
Have  tempted?    When  thou  first  hadst  felt  the  dart 
Of  perishable  things,  in  my  departing 
For  better  realms,  thy  wing  thou  shouldst  have  pruned 
To  follow  me  ;   and  never  stoop'd  again, 
To  'bide  a  second  blow,  for  a  slight  girl, 
Or  other  gaud  as  transient  and  as  vain. 
The  new  and  inexperienced  bird     awaits, 
Twice  it  may  be,  or  thrice,  the  fowler's  aim; 
But  in  the  sight  of  one  whose  plumes  are  full, 
In  vain  the  net  is  spread,  the  arrow  wing'd." 


141 


142  THE    VISIOX.  6:— 97. 

I  Stood,  as  children  silent  and  ashamed 
Stand,  listening,  with  their  eyes  upon  the  earth, 
Acknowledging  their  fault,  and  self-condemn'd. 
And  she  resumed  :  "  If,  but  to  hear,  thus  pains  thee ; 
Raise  thou  thy  beard,  and  lo  I  what  sight  shall  do." 

With  less  reluctance  yields  a  sturdy  holm, 
Rent  from  its  fibres  by  a  blast,  that  blows 
From  off  the  pole,  or  from  larbas'  land. 
Than  I  at  her  behest  my  visage  raised: 
And  thus  the  face  denoting  by  the  beard, 
I  mark'd  the  secret  sting  her  words  convey 'd. 

No  sooner  lifted  I  mine  aspect  up, 
Than  I  perceived    those  primal  creatures  cease 
Their  flowery  sprinkling;   and  mine  eyes  beheld 
(Yet  unassured  and  wavering  in  their  view) 
Beatrice  ;  she,  who  towards  the  mystic  shape, 
That  joins  two  natures  in  one  form,  had  turn'd : 
And,  even  under  shadow  of  her  veil, 
And  parted  by  the  verdant  rill  that  flow'd 
Between,  in  loveliness  she  seem'd  as  much 
Her  former  self  surpassing,  as  on  earth 
All  others  she  surpass'd.      Remorseful  goads 
Shot  sudden  through  me.      Each  thing  else,  the  more 
Its  love  had  late  beguiled  me,  now  the  more 
Was  loathsome.      On  my  heart  so  keenly  smote 
The  bitter  consciousness,  that  on  the  ground 
O'erpower'd  I  fell  :    and  what  my  state  was  then. 
She  knows,  who  was  the  cause.      When  now  my  strength 
Flow'd  back,  returning  outward  from  the  heart, 
The  lady,    whom  alone  I  first  had  seen, 
I  found  above  me.      *'  Loose  me  not,"  she  cried :  _ 
"Loose  not  thy  hold:"  and  lo!  had  dragg'd  me  high 
As  to  my  neck  into  the  stream ;  while  she. 
Still  aii  she  drew  me  after,  swept  along. 
Swift  as  a  shuttle,  bounding  o'er  the  wave. 

The  blessed  shore  approaching,  then  was  heard 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XXXI.  143 

So  sweetly,  "  Tu  asperges  me,"    that  I 

May  not  remember,  much  less  tell  the  sound. 

The  beauteous  dame,  her  arms  expanding,  clasp'd 
My  temples,  and  immerged  me  where  'twas  fit 
The  wave  should  drench  me :  and,  thence  raising  up, 
Within  the  fourfold  dance  of  lovely  nymphs 
Presented  me  so  laved  ;  and  with  their  arm 
They  each  did  cover  me.      '*  Here  are  we  nymphs, 
And  in  the  heaven  are  stars.       Or  ever  earth 
VVas  visited  of  Beatrice,  we 
Appointed  for  her  handmaids,  tended  on  her. 
We  to  her  eyes  will  lead  thee :   but  the  light 
Of  gladness,  that  is  in  them,  well  to  scan, 
Those  yonder  three,    of  deeper  ken  than  ours, 
Thy  sight  shall  quicken."      Thus  began  their  .song: 
And  then  they  led  me  to  the  Gryphon's  breast, 
Where,  turn'd  toward  us,  Beatrice  stood. 
"  Spare  not  thy  vision.      We  have  station'd  thee 
Before  the  emeralds,    whence  love,  erewhile. 
Hath  drawn  his  weapons  on  thee."      As  they  spake, 
A  thousand  fervent  wishes  riveted 
Mine  eyes  upon  her  beaming  eyes,  that  stood, 
Still  fix'd  toward  the  Gryphon,  motionless. 
As  the  sun  strikes  a  mirror,  even  thus 
Within  those  orbs  the  twyfold  being  shone ; 
For  ever  varying,  in  one  figure  now 
Reflected,  now  in  other.      Reader!  muse 
How  wondrous  in  my  sight  it  seem'd,  to  mark 
A  thing,  albeit  stedfast  in  itself. 
Yet  in  its  imaged  semblance  mutable. 

Full  of  amaze,  and  joyous,  while  my  soul 
Fed  on  the  viand,  whereof  still  desire 
Grows  with  satiety  ;   the  other  three. 
With  gesture  that  declared  a  loftier  line. 
Advanced  :   to  their  own  carol,  on  they  came 
Dancing,  in  festive  ring  angelical. 


THE   VISION. 

"Turn,  Beatrice!"  was  their  song:  "  Oh  I  turn 
Thy  saintly  sight  on  this  thy  faithful  one, 
Who,  to  behold  thee,  many  a  wearisome  pace 
Hath  measured.      Gracious  at  our  prayer,  vouchsafe 
Unveil  to  him  thy  cheeks  :    that  he  may  mark 
Thy  second  beauty,  now  conceal'd."      O  splendour  I 
O  sacred  light  eternal  I   who  is  he. 
So  pale  with  musing  in  Pierian  shades, 
Or  with  that  fount  so  lavishly  imbued, 
Whose  spirit  should  not  fail  him  in  the  essay 
To  represent  thee  such  as  thou  didst  seem, 
When  under  cope  of  the  still-chiming  heaven 
Thou  gavest  to  open  air  thy  charms  reveal  d  ? 


Were  further  space  allow'd 
Then.   Reader!  mit^ht   I   sing,  though  but  in   part, 
That   beverage,  with  whose  sweetness  I   h;id   ne'er 
Been  sated. 


Siicli  saw  I   many  a  face, 
All  stretched  to  speak. 

Canto  III.,  Huts  14,   15. 


CANTO     XXXII. 


ARGUMENT. 

warned  not  ro  gaie  too  fixedly  on  Beatrice.      The  procession  moves  on,  accompanied    by  Matilda,  Sudtta„ 
and  Dante,  till  they  reach  an  exceeding  lofty  tree,  where  divers  strange  chances  befall. 

MINE  eyes  with  such  an  eager  coveting 
Were  bent  to  rid  them  of  their  ten  years'  thirst, 
No  other  sense  was  waking  :    and  e'en  they 
Were  fenced  on  either  side  from  heed  of  aught; 
So  tangled,  in  its  custom'd  toils,  that  smile 
Of  saintly  brightness  drew  me  to  itself: 
When  forcibly,  toward  the  left,  my  sight 
The  sacred  virgins  turn'd  ;   for  from  their  lips 
I  heard  the  warning  sounds :  "  Too  fix'd  a  gaze  I " 

Awhile  my  vision  labour'd  ;    as  when  late 
Upon  the  o'erstrain'd  eyes  the  sun  hath  smote : 
But  soon,    to  lesser  object,  as  the  view 
Was  now  recover'd  (lesser  in  respect 
To  that  excess  of  sensible,  whence  late 
I  had  perforce  been  sunder'd),  on  their  right 
I  mark'd  that  glorious  army  wheel,  and  turn, 
Against  the  sun  and  sevenfold  lights,  their  front. 
As  when,  their  bucklers  for  protection  raised, 
A  well-ranged  troop,  with  portly  banners  curl'd. 
Wheel  circling,  ere  the  whole  can  change  their  ground ; 
E'en  thus  the  grodly  regiment  of  heaven, 
Proceeding,  all  did  pass  us  ere  the  car 
Had  sloped  his  beam.      Attendant  at  the  wheels 
The  damsels  turn'd ;  and  on  the  Gryphon  moved 


146  THE   VISION.  25—60 

The  sacred  burden,  with  a  pace  so  smooth, 
No  feather  on  him  trembled.      The  fair  dame. 
Who  through  the  wave  had  drawn  me,  companied 
By  Statius  and  myself,  pursued  the  wheel, 
Whose  orbit,  rolling,  mark'd  a  lesser  arch. 

Through  the  high  wood,  now  void  (the  more  her  blame, 
Who  by  the  serpent  was  beguiled),  I  pass'd, 
With  step  in  cadence  to  the  harmony 
Angelic.     Onward  had  we  moved,  as  far, 
Perchance,  as  arrow  at  three  several   flights 
Full  wing'd  had  sped,  when  from  her  station  down 
Descended  Beatrice.     With  one  voice 
All  murmur'd  "Adam;"   circling  next  a  plant 
Despoil'd  of  flowers  and  leaf,  on  every  bough. 
Its  tresses,    spreading  more  as  more  they  rose. 
Were  such,  as  'midst  their  forest  wilds,  for  height, 
The  Indians     might  have  gazed  at.     "  Blessed  thou, 
Gryphon  I     whose  beak  hath  never  pluck'd  that  tree 
Pleasant  to  taste  :    for  hence  the  appetite 
Was  warp'd  to  evil."     Round  the  stately  trunk 
Thus  shouted  forth  the  rest,  to  whom  return'd 
The  animal  twice-gender'd  :    "Yeal    for  so 
The  generation  of  the  just  are  saved." 
And  turning  to  the  chariot-pole,  to  foot 
He  drew  it  of  the  widow'd  branch,  and  bound 
There,  left  unto  the  stock    whereon  it  grew. 

As  when  large  floods  of  radiance     from  above 
Stream,  with  that  radiance  mingled,  which  ascends 
Next  after  setting  of  the  scaly  sign, 
Our  plants  then  burgein,  and  each  wears  anew 
His  wonted  colours,  ere  the  sun  have  yoked 
Beneath  another  star  his  flamy  steeds ; 
Thus  putting  forth  a  hue  more  faint  than  rose, 
And  deeper  than  the  violet,  was  renew'd 
The  plant,  erewhile  in  all  its  branches  bare. 
Unearthly  was  the  hymn,  which  then  arose. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXXII. 

I  understood  it  not,  nor  to  the  end 

Endured  the  harmony.     Had  I  the  skill 

To  pencil  forth  how  closed  the  unpitying  eyes 

Slumbering,  when  Syrinx  warbled  (eyes  that  paid 

So  dearly  for  their  watching),  then,  like  painter, 

That  with  a  model  paints,  I  might  design 

The  manner  of  my  falling  into  sleep. 

But  feign  who  will  the  slumber  cunningly, 

I  pass  it  by  to  when  I  waked  ;    and  tell, 

How  suddenly  a  flash  of  splendour  rent 

The  curtain  of  my  sleep,  and  one  cries  out, 

"Arise:    what  dost  thou?"     As  the  chosen  three 

On  Tabor's  mount,  admitted  to  behold 

The  blossoming  of  that  fair  tree,    whose  fruit 

Is  coveted  of  angels,  and  doth  make 

Perpetual  feast  in  heaven  ;   to  themselves 

Returning,  at  the  word  whence  deeper  sleeps 

Were  broken,  they  their  tribe  diminish'd  saw; 

Both  Moses  and  Elias  gone,  and  changed 

The  stole  their  master  wore  ;   thus  to  myself 

Returning,  over  me  beheld  I  stand 

The  piteous  one,    who,  cross  the  stream,  had  brought 

My  steps.     "  And  where,"  all  doubting,  I  exclaim'd, 

"Is  Beatrice?" — "See  her,"  she  replied, 

"  Beneath  the  fresh  leaf,  seated  on  its  root. 

Behold  the  associate  choir,  that  circles  her. 

The  others,  with  a  melody  more  sweet 

And  more  profound,  journeying  to  higher  realms, 

Upon  the  Gryphon  tend."     If  there  her  words 

Were  closed,   I   know  not  ;    but  mine  eyes  had   now 

Ta'en  view  of  her,  by  whom  all  other  thoughts 

Were  barr'd  admittance.     On  the  very  ground 

Alone  she  sat,  as  she  had  there  been  left 

A  guard  upon  the  wain,  which  I  beheld 

Bound  to  the  twyform  beast.     The  seven  nymfhs 

Did  make  themselves  a  cloister  round  about  her ; 


148  THE    VISION. 

And,  in  their  hands,  upheld  those  lights     secure 
From  blast  septentrion  and  the  gusty  south. 

"  A  little  while  thou  shalt  be  forester  here ; 
And  citizen  shalt  be,  for  ever  with  me, 
Of  that  true  Rome,    wherein  Christ  dwells  a  Roman. 
To  profit  the  misguided  world,  keep  now 
Thine  eyes  upon  the  car;   and  what  thou  seest, 
Take  heed  thou  write,  returning  to  that  place." 

Thus  Beatrice  :   at  whose  feet  inclined 
Devout,  at  her  behest,  my  thought  and  eyes, 
I,  as  she  bade,  directed.     Never  fire. 
With  so  swift  motion,  forth  a  stormy  cloud 
Leap'd  downward  from  the  welkin's  furthest  bound. 
As  I  beheld  the  bird  of  Jove     descend 
Down  through  the  tree  ;   and,  as  he  rush'd,  the  rind 
Disparting  crush  beneath  him ;   buds  much  more. 
And  leaflets.     On  the  car,  with  all  his  might 
He  struck  ;   whence,  staggering,  like  a  ship  it  reel'd, 
At  random  driven,  to  starboard  now,  o'ercome. 
And  now  to  larboard,  by  the  vaulting  waves. 

Next,  springing  up  into  the  chariot's  womb, 
A  fox     I  saw,  with  hunger  seeming  pined 
Of  all  good  food.     But,  for  his  ugly  sins 
Ihe  saintly  maid  rebuking  him,  away 
Scampering  he  turn'd,  fast  as  his  hide-bound  corpse 
Would  bear  him.     Next,  from  whence  before  he  came, 
I  saw  the  eagle  dart  into  the  hull 
O'  the  car,  and  leave  it  with  his  feathers  lined : 
And  then  a  voice,  like  that  which  issues  forth 
From  heart  with  sorrow  rived,  did  issue  forth 
From  heaven,  and,  "O  poor  bark  of  mine!"    it  cried, 
"  How  badly  art  thou  freighted."     Then  it  seem'd 
That  the  earth  open'd,  between  either  wheel: 
And  I  beheld  a  dragon     issue  thence, 
That  through  the  chariot  fix'd  his  forked  train  ; 
And  like  a  wasp,  that  draggeth  back  the  sting. 
So  drawing  forth  his  baleful  train,  he  dragg'd 


PURGATORY.— CANTO   XXXI I. 

Part  of  the  bottom  forth ;  and  went  his  way, 

Exulting.     What  remain'd,  as  lively  turf 

With  green  herb,  so  did  clothe  itself  with  plumes, 

Which  haply  had,  with   purpose  chaste  and  kind, 

Been  offer'd ;   and  therewith  were  clothed  the  wheels, 

Both  one  and  other,  and  the  beam,  so  quickly, 

A  sigh  were  not  breathed  sooner.     Thus  transform'd, 

The  holy  structure,  through  its  several  parts. 

Did  put  forth  heads ;     three  on  the  beam,  and  one 

On  every  side :  the  first  like  oxen  horn'd ; 

But  with  a  single  horn  upon  their  front. 

The  four.     Like  monster,  sight  hath  never  seen. 

O'er  it     methought  there  sat,  secure  as  rock 

On  mountain's  lofty  top,  a  shameless  whore, 

Whose  ken  roved  loosely  round  her.     At  her  side. 

As  'twere  that  none  might  bear  her  off,  I  saw 

A  giant  stand ;   and  ever  and  anon 

They  mingled  kisses.     But,  her  lustful  eyes 

Chancing  on  me  to  wander,  that  fell  minion 

Scourged  her  from  head  to  foot  all  o'er ;   then  full 

Of  jealousy,  and  fierce  with  rage,  unloosed 

The  monster,  and  dragg'd  on,    so  far  across 

The  forest,  that  from  me  its  shades  alone 

Shielded  the  harlot  and  the  new-form'd  brute. 


149 


CANTO    AAXlII 


A  EGO M EN  t 

Bt  I  tjzji  *u.-g,  flearrlCf  ie*Te»  Cht  Jre,  4»K}  *kes  v»ith  nei  itv»  ««'»»  irRin*.  Mat  na,  Stmtiut,  and  Dante. 
She  then  darkly  pre^icis  to  ■■<'  Poets  some  hinire  events.  Lastly,  the  whole  tMK.<  -.Tr  e  at  the  fountain,  from 
whence  the  two  streaa*.  Letn-?  md  £uT>ne.  separating,  flow  dirtereni  «»v»i  *.nr  Matilda,  at  the  desire  ol 
Beatrice.  »iM»e«  onj  Poet  to  dnrk  rrf  the  isnet  Mream. 

"T^HE  heathen.    Lord!   are  conv- ;      --e? pensive  thus, 

*-       The  trinal  now,  and  now  tht  vir^-u    band 
(Quaternion,  their  sweet  psalmody  begr'^u 
Weeping;  and  Beatrice  listen'd,  sad 
And  sighing,  to  the  song,  in  such  ^  mood, 
That  Mary,  as  she  stood  beside  the  cross. 
Was  scarce  more  changed.     Hut  when  they  gave  hei  place 
To  speak,  then,  risen  upright  on  her  feet, 
She,  with  a  colour  glowing  bright  as  fire, 
Did  answer:   "Yet  a  little  while,    and  ye 
Shall  see  me  not;   and.  my  beloved  sisters  I 
Ag^ain  a  little  while,  and  ye  shall  see  me." 

Before  her  then  ^he  niarsh^l'd  all  the  seven; 
And,  beckoning  only,  motion'd  me,  the  dame. 
And  that  remaining  sage,    to  follow  her. 

So  on  she  pass'd  ;   and  had  not  set,  I  ween, 
Her  tenth  stf-c  to  the  ground,  when,  with  mine  eyes, 
rier  eyes  eiK;unter'd;   and,  with  visage  mild, 
*  So  mend  thy  pace,"  she  cried,  "  that  if  my  words 
Address  thee,  thou  mayst  still  be  aptly  placed 
lo  he^r  them."     Soon  as  duly  to  her  side 
1   QOw  fiad  hasten'd  :    "  Brother  I "   she  began, 
•*  Why  makest  thou  no  attempt  at  questioning, 
A5  thus  we  walk  together  ? "     Like  to  those 
W'no,  speaking  with  too  reverent  an  awe 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXXI IT. 

Before  their  betters,  draw  not  forth  the  voice 

Alive  unto  their  lips,  befell  me  then 

That  I  in  sounds  imperfect  thus  began  : 

"  Lady  I  what  I  have  need  of,  that  thou  know'st ; 

And  what  will  suit  my  need."      She  answering  thus : 

"Of  fearfulness  and  shame,  I  will  that  thou 

Henceforth  do  rid  thee ;   that  thou  speak  no  more, 

As  one  who  dreams.       Thus  far  be  taught  of  me : 

The  vessel  which  thou  saw'st  the  serpent  break, 

Was,  and  is  not :     let  him,  who  hath  the  blame, 

Hope  not  to  scare  God's  vengeance  with  a  sop. 

Without  an  heir  for  ever  shall  not  be 

That  eagle,    he,  who  left  the  chariot  plumed, 

Which  monster  made  it  first  and  next  a  prey. 

Plainly  I  view,  and  therefore  speak,  the  stars 

E'en  now  approaching,  whose  conjunction,  free 

From  all  impediment  and  bar,  brings  on 

A  season,  in  the  which,  one  sent  from  God 

(Five  hundred,  five,  and  ten,  do  mark  him  out). 

That  foul  one,  and  the  accomplice  of  her  guilt. 

The  giant,  both,  shall  slay.      And  if  perchance 

My  saying,  dark  as  Themis  or  as  Sphinx, 

Fail  to  persuade  thee  (since  like  them  it  foils 

The  intellect  with  blindness),  yet  erelong 

Events  shall  be  the  Naiads,    that  will  solve 

This  knotty  riddle ;   and  no  damage  light 

On  flock  or  field.     Take  heed  ;  and  as  these  words 

By  me  are  utter'd,  teach  them  even  so 

To  those  who  live  that  life,  which  is  a  race 

To  death  :   and  when  thou  writest  them,  keep  in  mind 

Not  to  conceal  how  thou  hast  seen  the  plant. 

That  twice    hath  now  been  spoil'd.     This  whoso  robs, 

This  whoso  plucks,  with  blasphemy  of  deed 

Sins  against  God,  who  for  his  use  alone 

Creating  hallow'd  it.      For  taste  of  this, 

In  pain  and  in  desire,  five  thousand  years 


THE   VISION.  62-97. 

And  upward,  the  first  soul  did  yearn  for  him 
Who  punish'd  in  himself  the  fatal  gust. 

"Thy  reason  slumbers,  if  it  deem  this  height, 
And  summit  thus  inverted,    of  the  plant, 
Without  due  cause  :   and  were  not  vainer  thoughts, 
As  Elsa's  numbing  waters,    to  thy  soul, 
And  their  fond  pleasures  had  not  dyed  it  dark 
As  Pyramus  the  mulberry  ;   thou  hadst  seen. 
In  such  momentous  circumstance  alone, 
God's  equal  justice  morally  implied 
In  the  forbidden  tree.     But  since  I  mark  thee, 
In  understanding,  harden'd  into  stone. 
And,  to  that  hardness,  spotted  too  and  stain'd, 
So  that  thine  eye  is  dazzled  at  my  word; 
I  will,  that,  if  not  written,  yet  at  least 
Painted  thou  take  it  in  thee,  for  the  cause. 
That  one  brings  home  his  staff  inwreathed  with  palm." 

\  thus  :   "  As  wax  Dy  seal,  that  changeth  not 
Its  impress,  now  is  stamp'd  my  brain  by  thee. 
But  wherefore  soars  thy  wish'd-for  speech  so  high 
Beyond  my  sight,  that  loses  it  the  more. 
The  more  it  strains  to  reach  it?" — "To  the  end 
That  thou  mayst  know,"  she  an.swer'd  straight,  "  the  school, 
That  thou  hast  follow'd ;   and  how  far  behind. 
When  following  my  discourse,  its  learning  halts : 
And  mayst  behold  your  art,    from  the  divine 
As  distant,  as  the  disagreement  is 
'Twixt  earth  and  heaven's  most  high  and  rapturous  orb." 

"  I  not  remember,"  I  replied,  "  that  e'er 
I  was  estranged  from  thee  ;    nor  for  such  fault 
Doth  conscience  chide  me."     Smiling  she  return'd  ; 
"  If  thou  canst  not  remember,  call  to  mind 
How  lately  thou  hast  drunk  of  Lethe's  wave; 
And,  sure  as  smoke  doth  indicate  a  flame, 
In  that  forgetful ness  itself  conclude 
Blame  from  thy  alienated  will  incurr'd. 


PURGATORY.— CANTO    XXXIII.  153 

From  henceforth,  verily,  my  words  shall  be 

As  naked,  as  will  suit  them  to  appear 

In  thy  unpractised  view."     More  sparkling  now, 

And  with  retarded  course,  the  sun  possess'd 

The  circle  of  mid-day,  that  varies  still 

As  the  aspect  varies  of  each  several  clime; 

When,  as  one,  sent  in  vaward  of  a  troop 

For  escort,  pauses,  if  perchance  he  spy 

Vestige  of  somewhat  strange  and  rare  ;   so  paused 

The  sevenfold  band,  arriving  at  the  verge 

Of  a  dun  umbrage  hoar,  such  as  is  seen. 

Beneath  green  leaves  and  gloomy  branches,  oft 

To  overbrow  a  bleak  and  alpine  cliff. 

And,  where  they  stood,  before  them,  as  it  seem'd. 

T.  Tioris  and   Euphrates     both,  beheld 

Forth  from  one  fountam  issue;   and,  like  fri(=;nds. 

Linger  at  parting.     "  O  enlightening  beam  ! 

O  glory  of  our  kind  I    beseech  thee  say 

What  water  this,  which,  from  one  source  derived, 

Itself  removes  to  distance  from  itself?" 

To  such  entreaty  answer  thus  was  made : 
"  Entreat  Matilda,  that  she  teach  thee  this." 

And  here,  as  one  who  clears  himself  of  blame 
Imputed,  the  fair  dame  return'd :    "  Of  me 
He  this  and  more  hath  learnt ;   and  I  am  safe 
That  Lethe's  water  hath  not  hid  it  from  him." 

And  Beatrice  :    "  Some  more  pressing  care. 
That  oft  the  memory  'reaves,  perchance  hath  made 
His  mind's  eye  dark.     But  lo,  where  Eunoe  flows  I 
Lead  thither;   and,  as  thou  art  wont,  revive 
His  fainting  virtue."     As  a  courteous  spirit, 
That  proffers  no  excuses,  but  as  soon 
As  he  hath  token  of  another's  will. 
Makes  it  his  own  ;   when  she  had  ta'en  me,  thus 
The  lovely  maiden  moved  her  on,  and  call'd 
To  Statins,  with  an  air  most  lady-like: 


154  THE   VISION. 

"  Come  thou  with  him."     Were  further  space  allow'd. 
Then,  reader  I    might  I  sing,  though  but  in  part, 
That  beverage,  with  whose  sweetness  I  had  ne'er 
Been  sated.     But,  since  all  the  leaves  are  full, 
Appointed  for  this  second  strain,  mine  art 
With  warning  bridle  checks  me.     I  return 'd 
From  the  most  holy  wave,  regenerate, 
E'en  as  new  plants  renew'd     with  foliage  new 
Pur(  and  made  apt  for  mounting  to  the  stars. 


PARADISE. 


THE    VISION     OF     DANTIi 


Parabisp. 


CANTO     I. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  Poet  ««:endi  with  Beatrice  towards  the  first  heaven,  and  is  by  her  resolved  of  certain  doubts  which  arise 

his  mind. 

HIS  glory,  by  whose  might  all  things  are  moved, 
Pierces  the  universe,    and  in  one  part 
Sheds  more  resplendence,  elsewhere  less.     In  heaven, 
That  largeliest  of  his  light  partakes,  was  I, 
Witness  of  things,  which,  to  relate  again, 
Surpasseth  power  of  him  who  comes  from  thence; 
For  that,  so  near  approaching  its  desire, 
Our  intellect  is  to  such  depth  absorb'd, 
That  memory  cannot  follow.     Nathless  all. 
That  in  my  thoughts  I  of  that  sacred  realm 
Could  store,  shall  now     be  matter  of  my  song, 

Benign  Apollo!      this  last  labour  aid; 
And  make  me  such  a  vessel  of  thy  worth, 
As  thy  own  laurel  claims,  of  me  beloved. 
Thus  far     hath  one  of  steep  Parnassus'  brows 
Sufficed  me  ;    henceforth,  there  is  need  of  both 


158  THE    VISION'. 

For  my  remaining  enterprise.     Do  thou 

Enter  into  my  bosom,  and  there  breathe 

So,  as  when  Marsyas     by  thy  hand  was  dragg'd 

Forth  from  his  limbs,  unsheathed.     O  power  divine! 

if  thou  to  mc  of  thine  impart  so  much, 

That  of  that  happy  realm  the  shadow'd  form 

Traced  in  my  thoughts  I  may  set  forth  to  view; 

Thou  shalt  behold  me  of  thy  favour'd  tree 

Come  to  the  foot,  and  crown  myself  with  leaves : 

For  to  that  honour  thou,  and  my  high  theme 

Will  fit  me.     If  but  seldom,  mighty  Sire  I 

To  grace  his  triumph,  gathers  thence  a  wreath 

Caesar,  or  bard    (more  shame  for  human  wills 

Depraved),  joy  to  the  Delphic  god  must  spring 

From  the  Peneian  foliage,  when  one  breast 

Is  with  such  thirst  inspired.      From  a  small  spark 

Great  flame  hath  risen  .   after  me,  perchance, 

Others  with  better  voice  may  pray,  and  gain, 

From  the  Cyrrhaean  city,  answer  kind. 

Through  divers  passages,  the  world's  bright  lamp 
Rises  to  mortals  ;   but  through  that    which  joins 
Four  circles  with  the  threefold  cross,  in  best 
Course,  and  in  happiest  constellation    set 
•    He  comes;   and,  to  the  worldly  wax,  best  gives 
Its  temper  and  impression.      Morning  there. 
Here  eve  was  well  nigh  by  such  passage  made; 
And  whiteness  had  o'erspread  that  hemisphere, 
Blackness  the  other  part ;   when  to  the  left 
I  saw  Beatrice  turn'd,  and  on  the  sun 
Gazing,  as  never  eagle  fix'd  his  ken. 
As  from  the  first  a  second  beam    is  wont 
To  issue,  and  reflected  upwards  rise, 
Even  as  a  pilgrim  bent  on  his  return ; 
So  of  her  act,  that  through  the  eyesight  pass'd 
Into  my  fancy,  mine  was  form'd  :   and  straight, 
Beyond  our  mortal  wont,  I  fix'd  mine  eyes 


PARADISE.— CANTO    I. 

Upon  the  sun.      Much  is  allow'd  us  there, 

That  here  exceeds  our  power ;   thanks  to  the  place 

Made    for  the  dwelling  of  the  human  kind. 

I  suffer'd  it  not  long;   and  yet  so  long, 
That  I  beheld  it  bickering  sparks  around, 
As  iron  that  comes  boiling  from  the  fire. 
And  suddenly  upon  the  day  appear'd 
A  day  new-risen  ;   as  he,  who  hath  the  power, 
Had  with  another  sun  bedeck'd  the  sky. 

Her  eyes  fast  fix'd  on  the  eternal  wheel?, 
Beatrice  stood  unmoved  ;   and  I  with  ken 
Fix'd  upon  her,  from  upward  gaze  removedw 
At  her  aspect,  such  inwardly  became 
As  Glaucus,    when  he  tasted  of  the  herb 
That  made  him  peer  among  the  ocean  gods  : 
Words  may  not  tell  of  that  transhuman  change; 
And  therefore  let  the  example  serve,  though  weak, 
For  those  whom  grace  hath  better  proof  in  store. 

If    I  were  only  what  thou  didst  create, 
Then  newly,  Love  I   by  whom  the  heaven  is  ruled  ; 
Thou  know'st,  who  by  thy  light  didst  bear  me  up. 
Whenas  the  wheel  which  thou  dost  ever  guide, 
Desired  Spirit  I   with  its  harmony, 
Temper'd  of  thee  and  measured,  charm'd  mine  ear 
Then  seem'd  to  me  so  much  of  heaven    to  blaze 
With  the  sun's  flame,  that  rain  or  flood  ne'er  made 
A  lake  so  broad.      The  newness  of  the  sound. 
And  that  great  light,  inflamed  me  with  desire, 
Keener  than  e'er  was  felt,  to  know  their  cause. 

Whence  she,  who  saw  me,  clearly  as  myself, 
To  calm  my  troubled  mind,  before  I  ask'd, 
Open'd  her  lips,  and  gracious  thus  began  : 
"  With  false  imagination  thou  thyself 
Makest  dull ;   so  that  thou  seest  not  the  thing, 
Which  thou  hadst  seen,  had  that  been  shaken  off. 
Thou  art  not  on  the  earth  as  thou  believest ; 


i6o  THR    VISION. 

For  lightning,  scaped  from  its  own  proper  place, 
Ne'er  ran,  as  thou  hast  hither  now  return'd." 

Although  divested  of  my  first-raised  doubt 
By  those  brief  words  accompanied  with  smiles, 
Yet  in  new  doubt  was  I  entangled  more, 
And  said  :    "  Already  satisfied,  I  rest 
From  admiration  deep  ;   but  now  admire 
How  I  above  those  lighter  bodies  rise." 

Whence,  after  utterance  of  a  piteous  sigh, 
She  towards  me  bent  her  eyes,  with  such  a  look. 
As  on  her  frenzied  child  a  mother  casts; 
Then  thus  began:    "Among  themselves  all  things 
Have  order;   and  from  hence  the  form,    which  makes 
The  universe  resemble  God.      In  this 
The  higher  creatures  see  the  printed  steps 
Of  that  eternal  worth,  which  is  the  end 
Whither  the  line  is  drawn.       All  natures  lean, 
In  this  their  order,  diversly ;   some  more. 
Some  less  approaching  to  their  primal  source. 
Thus  they  to  different  havens  are  moved  on 
Through  the  vast  sea  of  being,  and  each  one 
With  instinct  given,  that  bears  it  in  its  course: 
This  to  the  lunar  sphere  directs  the  fire ; 
This  moves  the  hearts  of  mortal  animals; 
This  the  brute  earth  together  knits,  and  binds. 
Nor  only  creatures,  void  of  inteUe^.t, 
Are  aim'd  at  by  this  bow;   but  even  those. 
That  have  intelligence  and  love,  are  pierced. 
That  Providence,  who  so  well  orders  all. 
With  her  own  light  makes  ever  calm  the  heaven, 
In  which  the  substance,    that  hath  greatest  speed. 
Is  turn'd  :    and  thither  now,  as  to  our  seat 
Predestined,  we  are  carried  by  the  force 
Of  that  strong  cord,  that  never  looses  dart 
But  at  fair  aim  and  glad.      Yet  it  is  true, 
That  as,  oft-times,  but  ill  accords  the  form 


So  drew 
Full  more  than  thousand  splendours  towards  us. 

Caiita    v.,   lints  99,    100. 


^m 


Tin-    left    bank 
That  Rhone,  when  he  hath   mix'd  with   Sorya,  laves, 
In  me  its  lord  expected. 


Came  /in..  lin 


PARADISE.— CANTO   I.  '  i6i 

To  the  design  of  art,  throut^h  sluggishness 
Or  unreplying  matter ;    so  this  course 
Is  sometimes  quitted  by  the  creature,  who 
Hath  power,  directed  thus,  to  bend  elsewhere  i 
As  from  a  cloud  the  fire  is  seen  to  fall, 
From  its  original  impulse  warp'd  to  earth. 
By  vitious  fondness.      Thou  no  more  admire 
Thy  soaring  (if  I  rightly  deem),  than  lapse 
Of  torrent  downwards  from  a  mountain's  height. 
There  would    in  thee  for  wonder  be  more  cause, 
If,  free  of  hinderance,  thou  hadst  stay'd  below, 
As  living  fire  unmoved  upon  the  earth." 

So  said,  she  turn'd  toward  the  heaven  her  face. 


CANTO     II. 


ARGUMENT. 

Dante  aitd  hia  celestial  y^nde  entrr  tbe  moon.     The  cause  of  the  spots  or   shadows  which   appear 

explained  to  him. 

ALL  ye.  vvfho  in  small  bark    have  following  sail'd. 
Eager  to  listen,  on  the  adventurous  track 
Of  my  proud  keel,  that  singing  cuts  her  way, 
Backward  return  with  speed,  and  your  own  shores 
Revisit ;   nor  put  out  to  open  sea, 
Where  losing  me,  perchance  ye  may  remain 
Bewilder'd  in  deep  maze.      The. way  I  pass, 
Ne'er  yet  was  run:    Minerva  breathes  the  gale; 
Apollo  piides  me;   and  another  Nine, 
To  my  rapt  sight,  the  arctic  beams  reveal. 
Ye  other  few  who  have  outstrqtch'd  the  neck 
Timely  for  food  of  angels,  on  which  here 
They  live,  yet  never  know  satiety; 
Through  the  deep  brine  ye  fearless  may  put  out 
Your  vessel ;   marking  well  the  furrow  broad 
Before  you  in  the  wave,  that  on  both  sides 
Equal  returns.'     Those,  glorious,  who  pass'd  o'er 
To  Colchos,  wonder'd  not  as  ye  will  do. 
When  they  saw  Jason  following  the  plough. 

The  increate  perpetual  thirst,    that  draws 
Toward  the  realm  of  God's  own  form,  bore  us 
Swift  almost  as  the  heaven  ye  behold. 

Beatrice  upward  gazed,  and  I  on  her; 
And  in  such  space  as  on  the  notch  a  dart 
Is  placed,  then  loosen'd  flies,  I  saw  myself 
Arrived,  where  wonderous  thing  engaged  my  sight 


PARADISE.— CANTO    IT.  163 

Whence  she,  to  whom  no  care  of  mine  was  hid. 

Turning  to  me,  with  aspect  glad  as  fair, 

Bespake  me :   "  Gratefully  direct  thy  mind 

To  God,  through  whom  to  this  first  star    we  oome.* 

Meseem'd  as  if  a  cloud  had  cover'd  us, 
Translucent,  solid,  firm,  and  polish'd  bright. 
Like  adamant,  which  the  sun's  beam  had  smit 
Within  itself  the  ever-during  pearl 
Received  us ;   as  the  wave  a  ray  of  light 
Receives,  and  rests  unbroken.      If  I  then 
Was  of  corporeal  frame,  and  it  transcend 
Our  weaker  thought,  how  one  dimension  thus 
Another  could  endure,  which  needs  must  be 
If  body  enter  body  ;    how  much  more 
Must  the  desire  inflame  us  to  behold 
That  essence,  which  discovers  by  what  means 
God   and  our  nature  join'd  I      There  will  be  seen 
That,  which  we  hold  through  faith  ;   not  shown  by  proof, 
But  in  itself  intelligibly  plain, 
E'en  as  the  truth     that  man  at  first  believes. 

I  answer'd  :  "  Lady  I    I  with  thoughts  devout, 
Such  as  I  best  can  frame,  give  thanks  to  him, 
Who  hath  removed  me  from  the  mortal  world. 
But  tell,  I  pray  thee,  whence  the  gloomy  spots 
Upon  this  body,  which  below  on  earth 
Give  rise  to  talk  of  Cain    in  fabling  quaint?" 

She  somewhat  smiled,  then  spake :  "  If  mortals  err 
In  their  opinion,  when  the  key  of  sense 
Unlocks  not,  surely  wonder's  weapon  keen 
Ought  not  to  pierce  thee:   since  thou  find'st,  the  wings 
Of  reason  to  pursue  the  senses'  flight 
Are  short.      But  what  thy  own  thought  is,  declare." 

Then  I  :    "  What  various  here  above  appears, 
Is  caused,  I  deem,  by  bodies  dense  or  rare." 

She  then  resumed  :  "  Thou  certainly  wilt  see 
In  falsehood  thy  belief  o'erwhelm'd,  if  well 


1 64  THE   VISION.  63-98. 

Thou  listen  to  the  ar^ments  which  I 

Shall  bring  to  face  it.      The  eighth  sphere  display* 

Numberless  lights,    the  which,  in  kind  and  size; 

May- be  remark'd  of  different  aspects: 

If  rare  or  dense  of  that  were  cause  alone, 

One  single  virtue  then  would  be  in  all ; 

Alike  distributed,  or  more,  or  less. 

Different  virtues  needs  must  be  the  fruits 

Of  formal  principles;   and  these,  save  one, 

Will  by  thy  reasoning  be  destroy'd.     Beside, 

If  rarity  were  of  that  dusk  the  cause, 

Which  thou  inquirest,  either  in  some  part 

That  planet  must  throughout  be  void,  nor  fed 

With  its  own  matter;  or,  as  bodies  share 

Their  fat  and  leanness,  in  like  manner  this 

Must  in  its  volume  change  the  leaves.      The  first, 

If  it  were  true,  had  through  the  sun's  eclipse 

Been  manifested,  by  transparency 

Of  light,  as  through  aught  rare  beside  effused. 

But  this  is  not.     Therefore  remains  to  see 

The  other  cause  :    and,  if  the  other  fall, 

Erroneous  so  must  prove  what  seem'd  to  thee. 

If  not  from  side  to  side  this  rarity 

Pass  through,  there  needs  must  be  a  limit,  whence 

Its  contrary  no  further  lets  it  pass. 

And  hence  the  beam,  that  from  without  proceeds, 

Must  be  pour'd  back  ;  as  colour  comes,  through  glass 

Reflected,  which  behind  it  lead  conceals. 

Now  wilt  thou  say,  that  there  of  murkier  hue, 

Than,  in  the  other  part,  the  ray  is  shown, 

By  being  thence  refracted  further  back. 

From  this  perplexity  will  free  thee  soon 

Experience,  if  thereof  thou  trial  make. 

The  fountaip  whence  your  arts  derive  their  streams* 

Three  mirrors  shalt  thou  take,  and  two  remove 

From  thee  alike;   and  more  remote  the  third, 


PARADISE.— CANTO    II.  165 

Betwixt  the  former  pair,  shall  meet  thine  eyes: 
Then  turn'd  toward  them,  cause  behind  thy  back 
A  light  to  stand,  that  on  the  three  shall  shine, 
And  thus  reflected  come  to  thee  from  all. 
Though  that,  beheld  most  distant,  do  not  stretch 
A  space  so  ample,  yet  in  brightness  thou 
Wilt  own  it  equaling  the  rest.      But  now 
As  under  snow  the  ground,  if  the  warm  ray 
Smites  it,  remains  dismantled  of  the  hue 
And  cold,  that  cover'd  it  before  ;    so  thee, 
Dismantled  in  thy  mind,  I  will  inform 
With  light  so  lively,  that  the  tremulous  beam 
Shall  quiver  where  it  falls.      Within  the  heaven. 
Where  peace  divine  inhabits,    circles  round 
A  body,  in  whose  virtue  lies  the  being 
Of  all  that  it  contains.      The  following  heaven, 
That  hath  so  many  lights,  this  being  divides, 
Through  different  essences,  from  it  distinct, 
And  yet  contain'd  within  it.      The  other  orbs 
Their  separate  distinctions  variously 
Dispose,  for  their  own  seed  and  produce  apt. 
Thus  do  these  organs  of  the  world  proceed, 
As  thou  beholdest  now,  from  step  to  step ; 
Their  influences  from  above  deriving. 
And  thence  transmitting  downwards.      Mark  me  well; 
How  through  this  passage  to  the  truth  I  ford, 
The  truth  thou  lovest ;   that  thou  henceforth,  alone, 
Mayst  know  to  keep  the  shallows,  safe,  untold. 
"  The  virtue  and  motion  of  the  sacred  orbs, 
As  mallet  by  the  workman's  hand,  must  needs 
By  blessed  movers    be  inspired.      This  heaven. 
Made  beauteous  by  so  many  luminaries. 
From  the  deep  spirit,    that  moves  its  circling  sphere^ 
Its  image  takes  and  impress  as  a  seal : 
And  as  the  soul,  that  dwells  within  your  dust. 
Through  members  different,  yet  together  form'd, 


i66  THE   VISION. 

In  different  powers  resolves  itself;   e'en  so 

The  intellectual  efficacy  unfolds 

Its  goodness  multiplied  throughout  the  stars; 

On  its  own  unity  revolving  still. 

Different  virtue    compact  differen 

Makes  with  the  precious  body  it  enlivens, 

With  which  it  knits,  as  life  in  you  is  knit. 

From  its  original  nature  full  of  joy, 

The  virtue  mingled    through  the  body  shines, 

As  joy  through  pupil  of  the  living  eye. 

From  hence  proceeds  that  which  from  light  to  light 

Seems  different,  and  not  from  dense  or  rare. 

This  is  the  formal  cause,  that  generates, 

Proportion'd  to  its  power,  the  dusk  or  clear." 


CANTO     III. 


ARGUMENT. 


la  the  moon  Dante  meets  with  Piccarda,  the  sister  of  Forese,  who  tells  him  that  this  planet  is  allotted  to  thoM  wka^ 
after  having  made  profession  of  chastity  and  a  religious  life,  had  been  compelled  to  violate  their  vows  ;  and  she  then 
points  out  to  him  the  spirit  of  the  Empress  Costania. 

"  I  "HAT  sun,    which  erst  with  love  my  bosom  warm'd. 

-*■       Had  of  fair  truth  unveil'd  the  sweet  aspect, 
By  proof  of  right,  and  of  the  false  reproof; 
And  I,  to  own  myself  convinced  and  free 
Of  doubt,  as  much  as  needed,  raised  my  head 
Erect  for  speech.       But  soon  a  sight  appear'd, 
Which,  so  intent  to  mark  it,  held  me  fix'd, 
That  of  confession  I  no  longer  thought. 

As  through  translucent  and  smooth  glass,  or  wave 
Clear  and  unmoved,  and  flowing  not  so  deep 
As  that  its  bed  is  dark,  the  shape-  returns 
So  faint  of  our  impictured  lineaments, 
That,  on  white  forehead  set,  a  pearl  as  strong 
Comes  to  the  eye  ;    such  saw  I  many  a  face, 
All  stretch'd  to  speak ;    from  whence  I  straight  conceived, 
Delusion     opposite  to  that,  which  raised, 
Between  the  man  and  fountain,  amorous  flame. 

Sudden,  as  I  perceived  them,  deeming  these 
Reflected  semblances,  to  see  of  whom 
They  were,  I  turn'd  mine  eyes,  and  nothing  saw ; 
Then  turn'd  them  back,  directed  on  the  light 
Of  my  sweet  guide,  who,  smiling,  shot  forth  beams 
From  her  celestial  eyes.      "  Wonder  not  thou," 
She  cried,  "at  this  my  smiling,  when  I  see 
Thy  childish  judgment;   since  not  yet  on  truth 
It  rests  the  foot,  but,  as  it  still  is  wont. 
Makes  thee  fall  back  in  unsound  vacancy. 


l68  THE    VISION.  a8— 63. 

True  substances  arc  these,  which  thou  behold'st, 
Hither  through  failure  of  their  vow  exiled. 
But  speak  thou  with  them  ;   listen,  and  believe, 
That  the  true  light,  which  fills  them  with  desire. 
Permits  not  from  its  beams  their  feet  to  stray." 

Straight  to  the  shadow,  which  for  converse  seem'd 
Most  earnest,  I  address'd  me :    and  began 
As  one  by  over-eagerness  perplex'd : 
"  O  spirit,  born  for  joy  I   who  in  the  rays 
Of  life  eternal,  of  that  sweetness  know'st 
The  flavour,  which,  not  tasted,  passes  far 
All  apprehension ;    me  it  well  would  please, 
If  thou  wouldst  tell  me  of  thy  name,  and  this 
Your  station  here."      Whence  she  with  kindness  prompt* 
And  eyes  glistering  with  smiles :    "  Our  charity. 
To  any  wish  by  justice  introduced, 
Bars  not  the  door ;    no  more  than  she  above, 
Who  would  have  all  her  court  be  like  herself. 
I  was  a  virgin  sister  in  the  earth  : 
And  if  thy  mind  observe  me  well,  this  form, 
With  such  addition  graced  of  loveliness 
Will  not  conceal  me  long ;   but  thou  wilt  know 
Piccarda,    in  the  tardiest  sphere  thus  placed, 
Here  'mid  these  other  blessed  also  blest. 
Our  hearts,  whose  high  affections  burn  alone 
With  pleasure  from  the  Holy  Spirit  conceived, 
Admitted  to  his  order,  dwell  in  joy. 
And  this  condition,  which  appears  so  low. 
Is  for  this  cause  assign'd  us,  that  our  vows 
Were,  in  some  part,  neglected  and  made  void." 

Whence  I  to  her  replied  :    "  Something  divine 
Beams  in  your  countenances  wonderous  fair ; 
From  former  knowledge  quite  transmuting  you. 
Therefore  to  recollect  was  I  so  slow. 
But  what  thou  say'st  hath  to  my  memory 
Given  now  such  aid,   that  to  retrace  your  forms 


-98-  PARAUISE.-CANTO    III.  169 

Is  easier.      Yet  inform  me,  ye,  who  here 
Are  happy  ;    long  ye  for  a  higher  place, 
More  to  behold,  and  more  in  love  to  dwell  ?" 

She  with  those  other  spirits  gently  smiled; 
Then  answer'd  with  such  gladness,  that  she  seem'd 
With  love's  first  flame  to  glow :    **  Brother  1   our  will 
Is,  in  composure,  settled  by  the  power 
Of  charity,  who  makes  us  will  alone 
What  we  possess,  and  nought  beyond  desire; 
If  we  should  wish  to  be  exalted  more, 
Then  must  our  wishes  jar  with  the  high  will 
Of  him,  who  sets  us  here ;   which  in  these  orbs 
Thou  wilt  confess  not  possible,  if  here 
To  be  in  charity  must  needs  befall. 
And  if  her  nature  well  thou  contemplate. 
Rather  it  is  inherent  in  this  state 
Of  blessedness,  to  keep  ourselves  within 
The  divine  will,  by  which  our  wills  with  his 
Are  one.      So  that  as  we,  from  step  to  step. 
Are  placed  throughout  this  kingdom,  pleases  all, 
Even  as  our  King,  who  in  us  plants  his  will; 
And  in  his  will  is  our  tranquillity : 
It  is  the  mighty  ocean,  whither  tends 
Whatever  it  creates  and  nature  makes." 

Then  saw  I  clearly  how  each  spot  in  heaven 
Is  Paradise,  though  with  like  gracious  dew 
The  supreme  virtue  shower  not  over  all. 

But  as  it  chances,  if  one  sort  of  food 
Hath  satiated,  and  of  another  still 
The  appetite  remains,  that  this  is  ask'd, 
And  thanks  for  that  return'd  ;   even  so  did  I, 
In  word  and  motion,  bent  from  her  to  learn 
What  web  it  was,    through  which  she  had  not  dravm 
The  shuttle  to  its  point.      She  thus  began: 
"  Exalted  worth  and  perfectness  of  life 


I70  THE   VISION. 

The  Lady    higher  up  inshrine  in  heaven, 

By  whose  pure  laws  upon  your  nether  earth 

The  robe  and  veil  they  wear ;    to  that  intent, 

That  e'en  till  death  they  may  keep  watch,  or  sleep, 

With  their  great  bridegroom,  .who  accepts  each  vow, 

Which  to  his  gracious  pleasure  love  conforms. 

I  from  the  world,  to  follow  her,  when  young 

Escaped  ;    and,  in  her  vesture  mantling  me, 

Made  promise  of  the  way  her  sect  enjoins. 

Thereafter  men,  for  ill  than  good  more  apt. 

Forth  snatch'd  me  from  the  pleasant  cloister's  pale. 

God  knows    how,  after  that,  my  life  was  framed. 

This  other  splendid  shape,  which  thou  bchold'st 

At  my  right  side,  burning  with  all  the  light 

Of  this  our  orb,  what  of  myself  I  tell 

May  to  herself  apply.      From  her,  like  me 

A  sister,  with  like  violence  were  torn 

The  saintly  folds,  that  shaded  her  fair  brows. 

E'en  when  she  to  the  world  again  was  brought 

In  spite  of  her  own  will  and  better  wont. 

Yet  not  for  that  the  bosom's  inward  veil 

Did  she  renounce.      This  is  the  luminary 

Of  mighty  Constance,    who  from  .that  loud  blast. 

Which  blew  the  second    over  Suabia's  realm, 

That  power  produced,  which  was  the  third  and  last." 

She  ceased  from  further  talk,  and  then  began 
"  Ave  Maria"  singing ;   and  with  that  song 
Vanish'd,  as  heavy  substance  through  deep  wave. 

Mine  eye,  tliat,  far  as  it  was  capable. 
Pursued  her,  when  in  dimness  she  was  lost, 
Turn'd  to  the  mark  where  greater  want  impcll'd, 
And  bent  on  Beatrice  all  its  gaze. 
But  she,  as  lightning,  beam'd  upon  my  looks ; 
So  that  the  sight  sustain'd  it  not  at  first. 
Whence  I  to  question  her  became  less  prompt 


CANTO     IV. 


ARGUM  ENT. 


Whfle  they  stiH  continue  to  the  moon,  Beatrice  removes  certain  doubts  which  Dante  had  conceived  respecting  the  place 
assigned  to  the  blessed,  and  respecting  the  will  absolute  or  conditional.  He  inquires  whether  it  U  possible  to  mAkc 
aatisfaction  for  a  vow  broken. 

"DETWEEN  two  kinds  of  food,    both  equally 
■*-^     Remote  and  tempting,  first  a  man  mighit  die 

Of  hunger,  ere  he  one  could  freely  chuse. 

E'en  so  would  stand  a  lamb  between  the  maw 

Of  two  fierce  wolves,  in  dread  of  both  alike: 

E'en  so  between  two  deer    a  dog  would  stand. 

Wherefore,  if  I  was  silent,  fault  nor  praise 

I  to  myself  impute  ;    by  equal  doubts 

Held  in  suspense  ;    since  of  necessity 

It  happen'd.      Silent  was  I,  yet  desire 

Was  painted  in  my  looks  ;    and  thus  I  spake 

My  wish  more  earnestly  than  language  could. 
As  Daniel,  when  the  haughty  king  he  freed 

From  ire,  that  spurr'd  him  on  to  deeds  unjust 

And  violent ;   so  did  Beatrice  then. 

"Well   I  discern,"  she  thus  her  words  address'd, 

"  How  thou  art  drawn  by  each  of  these  desires ; 

So  that  thy  anxious  thought  is  in  itself 

Bound  up  and  stifled,  nor  breathes  freely  forth. 

Thou  arguest :    if  the  good  intent  remain, 

What  reason  that  another's  violence 

Should  stint  the  measure  of  my  fair  desert? 

"Cause  too  thou  find'st  for  doubt,  in  that  it  seems 

That  spirits  to  the  stars,  as  Plato'  deem'd. 

Return.      These  are  the  questions  which  thy  wilj 

Urge  equally;    and  therefore  I,  the  first, 


172  THE    VISION.  a7-63. 

Of  that    will  treat  which  hath  the  more  of  gall. 

Of  seraphim    he  who  is  most  enskied, 

Moses  and  Samuel,  and  either  John, 

Chu^e  which  thou  wilt,  nor  even  Mary's  self, 

Have  not  in  any  other  heaven  their  seats, 

Than  have  those  spirits  which  so  late  thou  saw'st; 

Nor  more  or  fewer  years  exist ;    but  all 

Make  the  first  circle    beauteous,  diversly 

Partaking  of  sweet  life,  as  more  or  less 

Afflation  of  eternal  bliss  pervades  them. 

Here  were  they  shown  thee,  not  that  fate  assigns 

This  for  their  sphere,  but  for  a  sign  to  thee 

Of  that  celestial  furthest  from  the  height. 

Thus  needs,  that  ye  may  apprehend,  we  speak: 

Since  from  things  sensible  alone  ye  learn 

That,  which,  digested  rightly,  after  turns 

To  intellectual.      For  no  other  cause 

The  Scripture,  condescending  graciously 

To  your  perception,  hands  and  feet    to  God 

Attributes,  nor  so  means ;    and  holy  church 

Doth  represent  with  human  countenance 

Gabriel,  and  Michael,  and  him  who  made 

Tobias  whole.       Unlike  what  here  thou  seest, 

The  judgment  of  Timaeus,    who  affirms 

Each  soul  restored  to  its  particular  star ; 

Believing  it  to  have  been  taken  thence. 

When  nature  gave  it  to  inform  her  mold: 

Yet  to  appearance  his  intention  is 

Not  what  his  words  declare :   and  so  to  shun 

Derision,  haply  thus  he  hath  disguised 

His  true  opinion.       If  his  meaning  be, 

That  to  the  influencing  of  the.se  orbs  revert 

The  honour  and  the  blame  in  human  acts, 

Perchance  he  doth  not  wholly  miss  the  truth. 

This  principle,  not  understood  aright, 

Erewhile  perverted  well  nigh  all  the  world; 

So  that  it  fell  to  fabled  names  of  Jove, 


PARADISE.— CANTO    IV.  ^  173 

And  Mercury,  and  Mars.      That  other  doubt, 
Which  moves  thee,  is  less  harmful ;    for  it  brings 
No  peril  of  removing  thee  from  me. 

"  That,  to  the  eye  of  man,    our  justice  seems 
Unjust,  is  argument  for  faith,  and  not 
For  heretic  declension.      But,  to  the  end 
This  truth     may  stand  more  clearly  in  your  view, 
I  will  content  thee  even  to  thy  wish. 

"  If  violence  be,  when  that  which  suffers,  nought 
Consents  to  that  which  forceth,  not  for  this 
These  spirits  stood  exculpate.     For  the  will, 
That  wills  not,  still  survives  unquench'd,  and  doth, 
As  nature  doth  in  fire,  though  violence 
Wrest  it  a  thousand  times  ;    for,  if  it  yield 
Or  more  or  less,  so  far  it  follows  force. 
And  thus  did  these,  when  they  had  power  to  seek 
The  hallow'd  place  again.      In  them,  had  will 
Been  perfect,  such  as  once  upon  the  bars 
Held  Laurence    firm,  -or  wrought  in  Scaevola 
To  his  own  hand  remorseless  ;  to  the  path, 
Whence  they  were  drawn,  their  steps  had  hasten'd  back. 
When  liberty  return'd :   but  in  too  few, 
Resolve,  so  stedfast,  dwells.      And  by  these  words, 
If  duly  weigh'd,  that  argument  is  void, 
Which  oft  might  have  perplex'd  thee  still.      But  now 
Another  question  thwarts  thee,  which,  to  solve, 
Might  try  thy  patience  without  better  aid. 
I  have,  no  doubt,  instill'd  into  thy  mind, 
That  blessed  spirit  may  not  lie;   since  near 
The  source  of  primal  truth  it  dwells  for  aye: 
And  thou  mightst  after  of  Piccarda  learn 
That  Constance  held  affection  to  the  veil; 
So  that  she  seems  to  contradict  me  here. 
Not  seldom,  brother,  it  hath  chanced  for  men 
To  do  what  they  had  gladly  left  undone; 
Yet.  to  shun  peril,  they  have  done  amiss: 
E'en  as  Alcmaeon,    at  his  father's    suit 


17+  THE   VISION. 

Slew  his  own  mother;     so  made  pitiless, 
Not  to  lose  pity.     On  this  point  bethink  thee, 
That  force  and  will  are  blended  in  such  wise 
As  not  to  make  the  offence  excusable. 
Absolute  will  agrees  not  to  the  wrong; 
But  inasmuch  as  there  is  fear  of  woe 
From  non-compliance,  it  agrees.      Of  will 
Thus  absolute,  Piccarda  spake,  and  I 
Of  the  other;   so  that  both  have  truly  said." 

Such  was  the  flow  of  that  pure  rill,  that  well'd 
From  forth  the  fountain  of  all  truth  ;    and  such 
The  rest,  that  to  my  wandering  thoughts  I  found. 

"O  thou,  of  primal  love  the  prime  delight, 
Goddess  I"    I  straight  replied,  "whose  lively  words 
Still  shed  new  heat  and  vigour  through  my  soul; 
Affection  fails  me  to  requite  thy  grace 
With  equal  sum  of  gratitude:   be  his 
To  recompense,  who  sees  and  can  reward  thee. 
Well  I  discern,  that  by  that  tr-uth    alone 
Enlighten'd,  beyond  which  no  truth  may  roam, 
Our.  mind  can  satisfy  her  thirst  to  know : 
Therein  she  resteth,  e'en  as  in  his  lair 
The  wild  beast,  soon  as  she  hath  reach'd  that  bound. 
And  she  hath  power  to  reach  it ;   else  desire 
Were  given  to  no  end.      And  thence  doth  doubt 
Spring,  like  a  shoot,  around  the  stock  of  truth ; 
And  it  is  nature  which,  from  height  to  height, 
On  to  the  summit  prompts  us.      This  invites, 
This  doth  assure  me.  Lady!    reverently 
To  ask  thee  of  another  truth,  that  yet 
Is  dark  to  me.      I  fain  would  know,  if  man 
By  other  works  well  done  may  so  supply 
The  failure  of  his  vows,  that  in  your  scale 
They  lack  not  weight."      I  spake ;    and  on  me  straight 
Beatrice  look'd,  with  eyes  that  shot  forth  sparks 
Of  love  celestial,  in  such  copious  stream, 
That,  virtue  sinking  in  me  overpower'd, 
I  turn'd ;   and  downward  bent,  confused,  my  sight 


CANTO    V. 


ARGUMENT. 


Th«  question  proposed  in  the  last  canto  is  answered.  Dante  ascends  with  Beatrice  to  the  planet  Mercury,  which  is  the 
second  heaven  ;  and  here  he  finds  a  multitude  of  spirits,  one  of  whom  offers  to  satisfy  him  of  anything  he  may 
desire  to  know  from  them. 

"  T  F  beyond  earthly  wont,    the  flame  of  love 
-*■      Illume  me,  so  that  I  o'ercome  thy  power 
Of  vision,  marvel  not :    but  learn  the  cause 
In  that  perfection  of  the  sight,  which,  soon 
As  apprehending,  hasteneth  on  to  reach 
The  good  it  apprehends.      I  well  discern, 
How  in  thine  intellect  already  shines 
The  light  eternal,  which  to  view  alone 
Ne'er  fails  to  kindle  love ;   and  if  aught  else 
Your  love  seduces,  'tis  but  that  it  shows 
Some  ill-mark'd  vestige  of  that  primal  beam. 

"  This  wouldst  thou  know  :    if  failure  of  the  vow 
By  other  service  may  be  so  supplied, 
As  from  self-question  to  assure  the  soul." 

Thus  she  her  words,  not  heedless  of  my  wish, 
Began ;   and  thus,  as  one  who  breaks  not  off 
Discourse,  continued  in  her  saintly  strain. 
"  Supreme  of  gifts,    which  God,  creating,  gave 
Of  his  free  bounty,  sign  most  evident 
Of  goodness,  and  in  his  account  most  prized. 
Was  liberty  of  will  ;   the  boon,  wherewith 
All  intellectual  creatures,  and  them  sole, 
He  hath  endow'd.      Hence  now  thou  mayst  infer 
Of  what  high  worth  the  vow,  which  so  is  framed, 
That  when  man  offers,  God  well-pleased  accepts : 


176  -  THE    VISION.  a6-6i. 

For  in  the  compact  between  God  and  him, 
This  treasure,  such  as  I  describe  it  to  thee, 
He  makes  the  victim  ;    and  of  his  own  act. 
What  compensation  therefore  may  he  find  ? 
If  that,  whereof  thou  hast  oblation  made, 
By  using  well  thou  think'st  to  consecrate. 
Thou  wouldst  of  theft  do  charitable  deed. 
Thus  I  resolve  thee  of  the  greater  point. 

"  But  forasmuch  as  holy  church,  herein 
Dispensing,  seems  to  contradict  the  truth 
I  have  discover'd  to  thee,  yet  behoves 
Thou  rest  a  little  longer  at  the  board, 
Ere  the  crude  aliment  which  thou  hast  ta'en, 
Digested  fitly,  to  nutrition  turn. 
Open  thy  mind  to  what  I  now  unfold  ; 
And  give  it  inward  keeping.      Knowledge  comes 
Of  learning  well  retain'd,  unfruitful  else. 

"This  sacrifice,  in  essence,  of  two  things 
Consisteth  ;    one  is  that,  whereof  'tis  made ; 
The  covenant,  the  other.      For  the  last, 
It  ne'er  is  cancel'd,   if  not  kept :    and  hence 
I  spake,  erewhile,  so  strictly  of  its  force. 
For  this  it  was  enjoin'd  the  Israelites, 

Though  leave  were  given  them,  as  thou  know'st,  to  change, 
The  offering,  still  to  offer.      The  other  part, 
The  matter  and  the  substance  of  the  vow, 
May  well  be  such,  as  that,  without  offence, 
It  may  for  other  substance  be  exchanged. 
But,  at  his  own  discretion,  none  may  shift 
The  burden  on  his  shoulders ;   unreleased 
By  either  key,    the  yellow  and  the  white. 
Nor  deem  of  any  change,  as  less  than  vain, 
If  the  last  bond     be  not  within  the  new 
Included,  as  thequatre  in  the  six. 
No  satisfaction  therefore  can  be  paid 
For  what  so  precious  in  the  balance  weighs, 


62-98.  PARADISE.— CANTO    V.  •  177 

That  all  in  counterpoise  must  kick  the  beam. 

Take  then  no  vow  at  random  :    ta'en,  with  faith 

Preserve  it;   yet  not  bent,  as  Jephthah  once, 

Blindly  to  execute  a  rash  resolve, 

Whom  better  it  had  suited  to  exclaim, 

'  I  have  done  ill,'  than  to  redeem  his  pledge 

By  doing  worse  :    or,  not  unlike  to  him 

In  folly,  that  great  leader  of  the  Greeks ; 

Whence,  on  the  altar,  Iphigenia  mourn'd 

Her  virgin  beauty,  and  hath  since  made  mourn 

Both  wise  and  simple,  even  all,  who  hear 

Of  so  fell  sacrifice.      Be  ye  more  staid, 

O  Christians  !    not,  like  feather,  by  each  wind 

Removeable  ;    nor  think  to  cleanse  yourselves 

In  every  water.      Either  testament. 

The  old  and  new,  is  yours  :    and  for  your  guide. 

The  shepherd  of  the  church.      Let  this  suffice 

To  save  you.      When  by  evil  lust  enticed. 

Remember  ye  be  men,  not  senseless  beasts  ; 

Nor  let  the  Jew,  who  dwelleth  in  your  streets. 

Hold  you  in  mockery.      Be  not  as  the  lamb, 

That,  fickle  wanton,  leaves  its  mother's  milk. 

To  dally  with  itself  in  idle  play." 

Such  were  the  words  that  Beatrice  spake : 
These  ended,  to  that  region,  where  the  world 
Is  liveliest,  full  of  tond  desire  she  turn'd. 

Though  mainly  prompt  new  question  to  propose, 
Her  silence  and  changed  look  did  keep  me  dumb. 
And  as  the  arrow,  ere  the  cord  is  still, 
Leapeth  unto  its  mark;    so  on  we  sped 
Into  the  second  realm.      There  I  beheld 
The  dame,  so  joyous,  enter,  that  the  orb 
Grew  brighter  at  her  smiles  ;    and,  if  the  star 
Were  moved  to  gladness,  what  then  was  my  cheer, 
Whom  nature  hath  made  apt  for  every  change  I 

As  in  a  quiet  and  clear  lake  the  fish. 
If  aught  approach  them  from  without,  do  draw 


78  THE   VISION. 

Towards  it,  deeming  it  their  food  ;    so  drew 
Full  more  than  tiiousand  splendours  towards  us. 
And  in  each  one  was  heard  :   "  Lo  I   one  arrived 
To  multiply  our  loves  I"   and  as  each  came, 
The  shadow,  streaming  forth  effulgence  new, 
Witness'd  augmented  joy.      Here,  Reader  I    think, 
If  thou  didst  miss  the  sequel  of  my  tale, 
To  know  the  rest  how  sorely  thou  wouldst  crave ; 
And  thou  shalt  see  what  vehement  desire 
Possess'd  me,  soon  as  these  had  met  my  view, 
To  know  their  state.      "O  born  in  happy  hour  I 
Thou,  to  whom  grace  vouchsafes,  or  e'er  thy  close 
Of  fleshly  warfare,  to  behold  the  thrones 
Of  that  eternal  triumph  ;    know,  to  us 
The  light  communicated,  which  through  heaven 
Expatiates  without  bound.      Therefore,  if  aught 
Thou  of  our  beams  wouldst  borrow  for  thine  aid, 
Spare  not;   and,  of  our  radiance,  take  thy  fill." 

Thus  of  those  piteous  spirits  one  bespake  me; 
And   Beatrice  next :    "  Say  on  ;    and  trust 
As  unto  gods." — "How  in  the  light  supreme 
Thou  harbour'st,  and  from  thence  the  virtue  bring'st, 
That,  sparkling  in  thine  eyes,  denotes  thy  joy, 
I  mark;    but  who  thou  art,  am  still  to  seek; 
Or  wherefore,  worthy  spirit  I    for  thy  lot 
This  sphere    assign'd.  that  oft  from   mortal   ken 
Is  veil'd  by  other's  beams."      I  said;    and  lurn'd 
Toward  the  lustre,  that  with  greeting  kind 
Erewhile  had  hail'd  me.      Forthwith,  brighter  far 
Than  erst,  it  wax'd  :    and,  as -himself  the  sun 
Hides  through  excess  of  light,  when  his  warm  ^aze 
Hath  on  the  mantle  of  thick  vapours  prey'd ; 
Within  its  proper  ray  the  saintly  shape 
"Was,  through  increase  of  gladness,  thus  conceal'd; 
And,  shrouded  so  in  splendour,  answer'd  me, 
E'en  as  the  tcntjur  of  my  song  declares. 


CANTO      VI. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  spirit,  who  had  offered  to  satisfy  the  inquiries  of  Dante,  declares  himself  to  be  the  Emperor  Justinian  ;  and 
after  speaking  of  his  own  actions,  recounts  the  victories,  before  him,  obtained  under  the  Roman  Eagle.  He 
then  informs  our  Poet  that  the  soul  of  Romeo  the  pilgrim  is  in  the  same  star. 

"  A  ^''^^^    ^^^*  Constantine  the  eagle  turn'd 
■^  ^     A<2^ainst  the  motions  of  the  heaven,  that  roll'd 
Consenting-  with  its  course,  when  he  of  yore, 
Lavinias  spouse,  was  leader  of  the  flight;  « 

A  hundred  years  twice  told  and  more,    his  seat 
At   Hu rope's  extreme  point,    the  bird  of  Jove 
Held,   near  the  mountains,  whence  he  issued  first; 
There  under  shadow  of  his  sacred  plumes 
Swaying  the  world,  till  through  successive  hands 
To  mine  he  came  devolved.      Caesar  I  was; 
And  am  Justinian  ;    destined  by  the  will 
Of  that  prime  love,  whose  inlluence  I   feel, 
From  vain  excess  to  clear  the  incumber'd  laws. 
Or  eer  that  work  engaged   me,   I   did   hold 
In  Chiist  one  nature  only;     with  such  faith 
Contented.      But  the  blessed  Agapete, 
Who  was  chief  shepherd,  he  with  warning  voice 
To  the  true  faith   recall'd   me.      I  believed 
His  words  :    and  what  he  taught,  now  plainly  see, 
As  thou  in  every  contradiction  seest 
The  true  and  false  opposed.      Soon  as  my  feet 
Were  to  the  church  rcclaim'd,  to  my  great  task, 
By  inspiration  of  God's  grace  impell'd, 
I  gave  me  wholly  ;   and  consign'd  mine  arms 
To  Belisarius,  with  whom  heaven's  right  hand 


i8o  THE   VISIOX. 

Was  link'd  in  such  conjointment,  'twas  a  sign 
That  I  should  rest.      To  thy  first  question  thus 
I  shape  mine  answer,  which  were  ended  here, 
But  that  its  tendency  doth  prompt  perforce 
To  some  addition  ;   that  thou  well  mayst  mark. 
What  reason  on  each  side  they  have  to  plead, 
By  whom  that  holiest  banner  is  withstood. 
Both  who  pretend  its  power    and  who  oppose. 

"  Beginning  from  that  hour,  when  Pallas  died 
To  give  it  rule,  behold  the  valorous  deeds 
Have  made  it  worthy  reverence.      Not  unknown 
To  thee,  how  for  three  hundred  years  and  more 
It  dwelt  in  Alba,  up  to  those  fell  lists 
Where,  for  its  sake,  were  met  the  rival  three; 
'  Nor  aught  unknown  to  thee,  which  it  achieved 

Down    from  the  Sabines'  wrong  to  Lucrece'  woe ; 
With  its  seven  kings  conquering  the  nations  round; 
Nor  all  it  wrought,  by  Roman  worthies  borne 
'Gainst  Brennus  and  the  Epirot  prince,    and  hosts 
Of  single  chiefs,  or  states  in  league  combined 
Of  social  warfare :   hence,  Torquatus  stern. 
And  Quintius    named  of  his  neglected  locks, 
.    The  Decii,  and  the  Fabii  hence  acquired 
Their  fame,  which  I  with  duteous  zeal  embalm. 
By  it  the  pride  of  Arab  hordes     was  quell'd, 
When  they,  led  on  by  Hannibal,  o'erpass'd 
The  Alpine  rocks,  whence  glide  thy  currents,  Pol 
Beneath  its  guidance,  in  their  prime  of  days 
Scipio  and  Pompey  triumph'd  ;   and  that  hill 
Under  whose  summit    thou  didst  see  the  light, 
Rued  its  stern  bearing.      After,  near  the  hour. 
When  heaven  was  minded  that  o'er  all  the  world 
His  own  deep  calm  should  brood,  to  Caesar's  hand 
Did  Rome  consign  it ;   and  what  then  it  wrought 
From  Var  unto  the  Rhine,  saw  Isere's  flood, 
Saw  Loire  and  Seine,  and  every  vale,  that  fills 


62—97. 


PARADISE.-CAKTO    VI.  ^^I 

The  torrent  Rhone.      What  after  that  it  wrought, 

When  from  Ravenna  it  came  forth,  and  leap'd 

The  Rubicon,  was  of  so  bold  a  flight, 

That  tongue  nor  pen  may  follow  it.      Towards  Spain 

It  wheel'd  its  bands,  then  toward  Dyrrachium  smote, 

And  on  Pharsalia,  with  so  fierce  a  plunge. 

E'en  the  warm  Nile  was  conscious  to  the  pang; 

Its  natives  shores  Antandros,  and  the  streams 

Of  Simois  revisited,  and  there 

Where  Hector  lies;   then  ill  for  Ptolemy 

His  pennons  shook  again ;   lightening  thence  fell 

On  Juba  ,   and  the  next,  upon  your  west, 

At  sound  of  the  Pompeian  trump,  returned. 

"What  following,  and  in  its  next  bearer's  gripe, 
It  wrought,  is  now  by  Cassius  and  Brutus 
Bark'd  of     in  hell  ;   and  by  Perugia's  sons, 
And  Modena's,  was  mourn'd.      Hence  weepeth  still 
Sad  Cleopatra,  who,  pursued  by  it. 
Took  from  the  adder  black  and  sudden  death. 
With  him  it  ran  e'en  to  the  Red  Sea  coast; 
With  him  composed  the  world  to  such*  a  peace, 
That  of  his  temple  Janus  barr'd  the  door. 

"  But  all  the  mighty  standard  yet  had  wrought, 
And  was  appointed  to  perform  thereafter, 
Throughout  the  mortal  kingdom  which  it  sway'd, 
Falls  in  appearance  dwindled  and  obscured, 
If  one  with  steady  eye  and  perfect  thought 
On  the  third  Cssar    look ;   for  to  his  hands, 
The  living  Justice,  in  whose  breath  I  move, 
Committed  glory,  e'en  into  his  hands. 
To  execute  the  vengeance  of  its  wrath. 

"  Hear  now,  and  wonder  at,  what  next  I  tell. 
After  with  Titus  it  was  sent  to  wreak 
Vengeance  for  vengeance     of  the  ancient  sin. 
And,  when  the  Lombard  tooth,  with  fang  impure, 
Did  gore  the  bosom  of  the  holy  church. 


THE    VISION.  98-133. 

Under  its  wings,  victorious  Charlemain 

Sped  to  her  rescue.      Judge  then  for  thyself 

Of  those,  whom  I  erewhile  accused  to  thee. 

What  they  are,  and  how  grievous  their  offending, 

Who  are  the  cause  of  all  your  ills.      The  one 

Against  the  universal  ensign  rears 

The  yellow  lilies  ;      and  with  partial  aim, 

That,  to  himself,  the  other     arrogates : 

So  that  'tis  hard  to  see  who  most  offends. 

Be  yours,  ye  Ghibellines,    to  veil  your  hearts 

beneath  another  standard :    ill  is  this 

Follow'd  of  him,  who  severs  it  and  justice: 

And  let  not  with  his  Guelphs  the  new-crown'd  Charles 

Assail  it;   but  those  talons  hold  in  dread. 

Which  from  a  lion  of  more  lofty  port 

Have  rent  the  casing.      Many  a  time  ere  now 

The  sons  have  for  the  sire's  transgression  wail'd  : 

Nor  let  him  trust  the  fond  belief,  that  heaven 

Will  truck  its  armour  for  his  lilied  shield. 

"  This  little  star  is  furnish'd  with  good  spirits. 
Whose  mortal  lives  were  busied  to  that  end. 
That  honour  and  renown  might  wait  on  them : 
And,  when  desires    thus  err  in  their  intention, 
True  love  must  needs  ascend  with  slacker  beam. 
But  it  is  part  of  our  delight,  to  measure 
Our  wages  with  the  merit ;  and  admire 
The  close  proportion.      Hence  doth  heavenly  justice 
Temper  so  evenly  affection  in  us, 
It  ne'er  can  warp  to  any  wrongfulness. 
Of  diverse  voices  is  sweet  music  made: 
So  in  our  life  the  different  degrees 
Render  sweet  harmony  among  these  wheels. 

"Within  the  pearl,  that  now  encloseth  us, 
Shines  Romeo's  light,    whose  goodly  deed  and  fair 
Met  ill  acceptance.      But  the  Provencals, 
That  were  his  foes,  have  little  cause  for  mirth. 


PARADISE.-CANTO   VI. 

Ill  shapes  that  man  his  course,  who  makes  his  wronp 

Of  other's  worth.      Four  daughters    were  there  born 

To  Raymond  Berenger ;     and  every  one 

Became  a  queen :   and  this  for  him  did  Romeo, 

Though  of  mean  state  and  from  a  foreign  land. 

Yet  envious  tongues  incited  him  to  ask 

A  reckoning  of  that  just  one,  who  return'd 

Twelve  fold  to  him  for  ten.      Aged  and  poor 

He  parted  thence :   and  if  the  world  did  know 

The  heart  he  had,  begging  his  life  by  morsels, 

'T would  deem  the  praise  it  yields  him  scantly  dealt" 


183 


CANTO      VII. 


ARGUMENT. 


In  consequence  of  what  had  been  said  by  Justinian,  who  together  with  the  other  spirits  hare  now  disappeared,  some 
doubts  arise  in  the  mind  of  Dante  respecting  the  human  redemption.  These  difficulties  are  fuUy  explained  by 
Beatrice. 

"  TTOSANNA    Sanctus  Deus  Sabaoth, 
■*■  -*■      Superillustrans  claritate  tui 
Felices  ignes  horum  malahoth." 
Thus  chanting  saw  I  turn  that  substance  bright, 
With  fourfold  lustre  to  its  orb  again, 
Revolving;   and  the  rest,  unto  their  dance, 
With  it,  moved  also;   and,  like  swiftest  sparks, 
In  sudden  distance  from  my  sight  were  veil'd. 

Me  doubt  possess'd  ;   and  "  Speak,"  it  whisper'd  me, 
"  Speak,  speak  unto  thy  lady ;   that  she  quench 
Thy  thirst  with  drops  of  sweetness."     Yet  blank  awe, 
Which  lords  it  o'er  me,  even  at  the  sound 
Of  Beatrice's  name,  did  bow  me  down 
As  one  in  slumber  held.      Not  long  that  mood 
Beatrice  suffer'd  :   she,  with  such  a  smile, 
As  might  have  made  one  blest  amid  the  flames, 
Beaming  upon  me,  thus  her  words  began  : 
"  Thou  in  thy  thought  art  pondering  (as  I  deem. 
And  what  I  deem  is  truth)  how  just  revenge 
Could  be  with  justice  punish'd :    from  which  doubt 
I  soon  will  free  thee ;   so  thou  mark  my  words ; 
For  they  of  weighty  matter  shall  possess  thee. 
Through  suffering  not  a  curb  upon  the  power 
That  will'd  in  him,  to  his  own  profiting, 
That  man,  who  was  unborn,    condemn'd  himself; 


PARAUISI':.— CANTO    \-|I. 

And,  in  himself,  all  who  since  him  have  lived. 
His  offspring:   whence,  below,  the  human  kind 
Lay  sick  in  grievous  error  many  an  age ; 
Until  it  pleased  the  Word  of  God  to  come 
Amongst  them  down,  to  his  own  person  joining 
The  nature  from  its  Maker  far  estranged, 
By  the  mere  act  of  his  eternal  love. 
Contemplate  here  the  wonder  I  unfold. 
The  nature  with  its  Maker  thus  conjoin'd, 
Created  first  was  blameless,  pure  and  good ; 
But,  through  itself  alone,  was  driven  forth 
From  Paradise,  because  it  had  eschew'd 
The  way  of  truth  and  life,  to  evil  turn'd. 
Ne'er  then  was  penalty  so  just  as  that 
Inflicted  by  the  cross,  if  thou  regard 
The  nature  in  assumption  doom'd  ;    ne'er  wrong 
So  great,  in  reference  to  him,  who  took 
Such  nature  on  him,  and  endured  the  doom. 
So  different  effects  flow'd  from  one  act : 
For  by  one  death  God  and  the  Jews  were  pleased ; 
And  heaven  was  open'd,  though  the  earth  did  quake. 
Count  it  not  hard  henceforth,  when  thou  dost  hear 
That  a  just  vengeance     was,  by  righteous  court, 
Justly  revenged.     But  yet  I  see  thy  mind, 
By  thought  on  thought  arising,  sore  perplex 'd; 
And,  with  how  vehement  desire,  it  asks 
Solution  of  the  maze.     What  I  have  heard, 
Is  plain,  thou  sayst :    but  wherefore  God  this  way 
For  our  redemption  chose,  eludes  my  search. 
"  Brother  I    no  eye  of  man  not  perfected, 
Nor  lully  ripen'd  in  the  flame  of  love, 
May  fathom  this  decree.     It  is  a  mark. 
In  sooth,  much  aim'd  at,  and  but  little  kenn'd : 
And  1  will  therefore  show  thee  why  such  way 
Was  worthiest.     The  celestial  love,    that  spurns 


185 


i86  THE   VISION. 

All  envying  in  its  bounty,  in  itself 

With  such  effulgence  blazeth,  as  sends  forth 

All  beauteous  things  eternal.     What  distils 

Immediate  thence,  no  end  of  being  knows;  , 

Bearing  its  seal  immutably  imprest. 

Whatever  thence  immediate  falls,  is  free, 

Free  wholly,  uncontrollable  by  power 

Of  each  thing  new:    by  such  conformity 

More  grateful  to  its  author,  whose  bright  beams, 

Though  all  partake  their  shining,  yet  in  those 

Are  liveliest,  which  resemble  him  the  most. 

These  tokens  of  pre-eminence     on  man 

Largely  bestow 'd,  if  any  of  them  fail, 

He  needs  must  forfeit  his  nobility, 

No  longer  stainless.     Sin  alone  is  that. 

Which  doth  disfranchise  him,  and  make  unlike 

To  the  chief  good ;   for  that  its  light  in  him 

Is  darken'd.     And  to  dignity  thus  lost 

Is  no  return ;   unless,  where  guilt  makes  void. 

He  for  ill  pleasure  pay  with  equal  pain. 

Your  nature,  which  entirely  in  its  seed 

Transgress'd,  from  these  distinctions  fell,  no  less 

Than  from  its  state  in  Paradise ;   nor  means 

Found  of  recovery  (search  all  methods  out 

As  strictly  as  thou  may)  save  one  of  these, 

The  only  fords  were  left  through  which  to  wade: 

Either,  that  God  had  of  his  courtesy 

Released  him  merely ;  or  else,  man  himself 

For  his  own  folly  by  himself  atoned. 

"  Fix  now  thine  eye,  intently  as  thou  canst. 
On  the  everlasting  counsel ;   and  explore. 
Instructed  by  my  words,  the  dread  abyss. 

"  Man  in  himself  had  ever  lack'd  the  means 
Of  satisfaction,  for  he  could  not  stoop 
Obeying,  in  humility  so  low. 
As  high,  he,  disobeying,  thought  to  soar: 


PARADISE.— CANTO   VII.  187 

And,  for  this  reason,  he  had  vainly  tried, 

Out  of  his  own  sufficiency,  to  pay 

The  rigid  satisfaction.      Then  behoved 

That  God  should  by  his  own  ways  lead  him  back 

Unto  the  life,  from  whence  he  fell,  restored  : 

By  both  his  ways,   I   mean,  or  one  alone. 

But  since  the  deed  is  ever  prized  the  more. 

The  more  the  doer's  good  intent  appears; 

Goodness  celestial,  whose  broad  signature 

Is  on  the  universe,  of  all   its  ways 

To  raise  ye  up,  was  fain  to  leave  out  none. 

Nor  aught  so  vast  or  so  magnificent, 

Either  for  him  who  gave  or  who  received, 

Between  the  last  night  and  the  prima!  day, 

Was  or  can  be.      For  God  more  bounty  show'd. 

Giving  himself  to  make  man  capable 

Of  his  return  to  life,  than  had  the  terms 

Been  mere  and  unconditional  release. 

And  for  his  justice,  every  method  else 

Were  all  too  scant,  had  not  the  Son  of  God 

Humbled  himself  to  put  on  mortal  flesh. 

"  Now,  to  content  thee  fully,   I   revert ; 
And  further  in  some  part    unfold  my  speech, 
That  thou  mayst  see  it  clearly  as  myself. 

"  I  see,  thou  sayst,  the  air,  the  fire  I  .see, 
The  earth  and  water,  and  all  things  of  them 
Compounded,  to  corruption  turn,  and  soon 
Dissolve.      Yet  these  were  also  things  create. 
Because,  if  what  were  told  me  had  been  true, 
They  from  corruption  had  been  therefore  free. 

"The  angels,  O  my  brother  I    and  this  clime 
Wherein  thou  art,  impassible  and  pure, 
I  call  created,  even  as  they  are 
In  their  whole  being.      But  the  elements, 
Which  thou  hast  named,  and  what  of  them  is  made, 
Are  by  created  virtue  inform 'd :   create. 


>^8  THE    VISION. 

Their  substance;   and  create,  the  informing  virtue 

In  these  bright  stars,  that  round  them  circling  move. 

The  soul  of  ever)'  brute  and  of  each  plant, 

The  ray  and  motion  of  the  sacred  lights, 

Draw    from  complexion  with  meet  power  endued. 

But  this  our  life  the  eternal  good  inspires 

Immediate,  and  enamours  of  itself; 

So  that  our  wishes  rest  for  ever  here. 

"  And  hence  thou  mayst  by  inference  conclude 
Our  resurrection  certain,    if  thy  mina 
Consider  how  the  human  flesh  was  framed. 
When  both  our  parents  at  the  first  were  made." 


'33—144. 


CANTO      VIII. 


ARGUMENT. 


The  Poet  ascends  with  Beatrice  to  the  third  heaven,  which  is  the  planet  Venus  ;  and  here  finds  the  soul  of  Charles 
Martel,  King  of  Hungary,  who  had  been  Dante's  friend  on  earth,  and  who  now,  after  speaking  of  the  realms  to  which 
he  was  heir,  unfolds  the  cause  why  children  differ  in  disposition  from  their  parents. 

nPHE  world    was,  in  its  day  of  peril  dark, 

-'-       Wont  to  believe  the  dotage  of  fond  love, 
From  the  fair  Cyprian  deity,  who  rolls 
In  her  third  epicycle,    shed  on  men 
By  stream  of  potent  radiance :    therefore  they 
Of  elder  time,  in  their  old  error  blind. 
Not  her  alone  with  sacrifice  adored 
And  invocation,  but  like  honours  paid' 
To  Cupid  and  Dione,  deem'd  of  them 
Her  mother,  and  her  son,  him  whom  they  feign'd 
To  sit  in  Dido's  bosom  :     and  from  her. 
Whom  I  have  sung  preluding,  borrow'd  they 
The  appellation  of  that  star,  which  views 
Now  obvious,    and  now  averse,  the  sun. 

I  was  not  ware  that  I  was  wafted  up 
Into  its  orb  ;   but  the  new  loveliness. 
That  graced  my  lady,  gave  me  ample  proof 
That  we  had  enter'd  there.     And  as  in  flame 
A  sparkle  is  distinct,  or  voice  in  voice 
Discern'd,  when  one  its  even  tenour  keeps. 
The  other  comes  and  goes;   so  in  that  hght 
I  other  luminaries  saw,  that  coursed 
In  circling  motion,  rapid  more  or  less. 


igo  THE   VISION. 

As  their    eternal  vision  each  impels. 

Never  was  blast  from  vapour  charged  with  cold. 
Whether  invisible  to  eye  or  no, 
Descended  with  such  speed,  it  had  not  seem'd 
To  linger  in  dull  tardiness,  compared 
To  those  celestial  lights,  that  towards  us  came» 
Leaving  the  circuit  of  their  joyous  ring, 
Conducted  by  the  lofty  seraphim. 
And  after  them,  who  in  the  van  appear'd, 
Such  an  Hosanna  sounded  as  hath  left 
Desire,  ne'er  since  extinct  in  me,  to  hear 
Renew'd  the  strain.      Then,  parting  from  the  rest, 
One  near  us  drew,  and  sole  began  :    "  We  all 
Are  ready  at  thy  pleasure,  well  disposed 
To  do  thee  gentle  service.      We  are  they 
To  whom  thou  in  the  world  erewhile  didst  sing; 
'  O  ye  I    whose  intellectual  ministry 
Moves  the  third  heaven  :'  and  in  one  orb  we  roll, 
One  motion,  one  impulse,  with  those  who  rule 
Princedoms  in  heaven ;     yet  are  of  love  so  full. 
That  to  please'  thee  'twill  be  as  sweet  to  rest." 

After  mine  eyes  had  with  meek  reverence 
Sought  the  celestial  guide,  and  were  by  her 
Assured,  they  turn'd  again  unto  the  light. 
Who  had  so  largely  prorhised ;   and  with  voice 
That  bare  the  lively  pressure  of  my  zeal, 
"Tell  who  ye  are."  I  cried.     Forthwith  it  grew 
In  size  and  splendour,  through  augmented  joy; 
And  thus  it  answer'd  :    "A  short  date,  below, 
The  world  possess'd  me.     Had  the  time  been  more, 
Much  evil,  that  will  come,  had  never  chanced. 
My  gladness  hides  thee  from  me,  which  doth  shine 
Around,  and  shroud  me,  as  an  animal 
In  its  own  silk  enswathed.     Thou  lovedst  me  well, 
And  hadst  good  cause  ;    for  had  my  sojourning 
Been  longer  on  the  earth,  the  love  I  bare  thee 


«4— 59- 


€o— 95- 


I'ARADISE.-CANTO    VIII.  19I 

Had  put  forth  more  than  blossoms.     The  left  bank, 

That  Rhone,  when  he  hath  mix'd  with  Sor-a,  laves, 

In  me  its  lord  expected,  and  that  horn 

Of  fair  Ausonia,    with  its  boroughs  old, 

Bari,  and  Croton,  and  Gaeta  piled, 

From  where  the  Trento  disembogues  his  waves. 

With  Verde  mingled,  to  the  salt-sea  flood.      . 

Already  on  my  temples  beam'd  the  crown. 

Which  gave  me  sovereignty  over  the  land 

By  Danube  wash'd,  whenas  he  strays  beyond 

The  limits  of  his  German  shores.     The  realm, 

Where,  on  the  gulf  by  stormy  Eurus  lash'd, 

Betwixt  Pelorus  and   Pachynian  heights. 

The  beautiful  Trinacria     lies  in  gloom 

(Not  through  Typhoeus,    but  the  vapoury  cloud 

Bituminous  upsteam'd),  that  too  did  look 

To  have  its  sceptre  wielded  by  a  race 

Of  monarchs,  sprung  through  me  from  Charles  and  Rodolph; 

Had  not  ill-lording,    which  doth  desperate  make 

The  people  ever,  in  Palermo  raised 

The  shout  of  'death,'  re-echoed  loud  and  long. 

Had  but  my  brother's  f-.)rcMght      kcnn'd  as  much, 

He  had  been  warier,  that  the  greedy  want 

01  Catalonia  might  not  work  his  bale. 

And  truly  need  there  is  that  he  forecast, 

Or  other  for  him,  lest  more  freight  be  laid 

On  his  already  over-laden  bark. 

Nature  in  him,  from  bounty  fallen  to  thrift. 

Would  ask  the  guard  of  braver  arms,  than  such 

As  only  care  to  have  their  coffers  fiU'd." 

"  My  liege  I    it  doth  enhance  the  joy  thy  words 
Infuse  into  me,  mighty  as  it  is. 
To  think  my  gladness  manifest  to  thee, 
As  to  myself,  who  own  it,  when  thou  look'st 
Into  the  source  and  limit  of  all  good. 
There,  where  thou  markest  that  which  thou  dost  speak, 


^' 


192  THE   VISION.  56- 

Thence  prized  of  me  the  more.     Glad  thou  hast  made  me: 

Now  make  intelligent,  clearing  the  doubt 

Thy  speech  hath  raised  in  me;  for  much  I  muse, 

How  bitter  can  spring  up,    when  sweet  is  sown." 

I  thus  inquiring;  he  forthwith  replied: 
"  If  I  have  power  to  show  one  truth,  soon  that 
Shall  face  thee,  which  thy  questioning  declares 
Behind  thee  now  conceal'd.     The  Good,    that  guides 
And  blessed  makes  this  realm  which  thou  dost  mount, 
Ordains  its  providence  to  be  the  virtue 
In  these  great  bodies:    nor  the  natures  only 
The  all-perfect  mind  provides  for,  but  with  them 
That  which  preserves  them  too;  for  nought,  that  lies 
Within  the  range  of  that  unerring  bow, 
But  is  as  level  with  the  destined  aim, 
As  ever  mark  to  arrow's  point  opposed. 
Were  it  not  thus,  these  heavens  thou  dost  visit. 
Would  their  effect  so  work,  it  would  not  be 
Art,  but  destruction;   and  this  may  not  chance. 
If  the  intellectual  powers,  that  move  these  stars, 
Fail  not,  and  who,  first  faulty  made  them,  fail. 
Wilt  thou  this  truth  more  clearly  evidenced  ?" 

To  whom  I  thus :   "  It  is  enough :   no  fear, 
I  see,  lest  nature  in  her  part  should  tire." 

He  straight  rejoin'd :   "  Say,  were  it  worse  for  man, 
If  he  lived  not  in  fellowship  on  earth?" 

"  Yea,"  answer'd  I  ;  "  nor  here  a  reason  needs," 

"And  may  that  be,  if  different  estates 
Grow  not  of  different  duties  in  your  life  ? 
Consult  your  teacher,    and  he  tells  you  'no.'" 

Thus  did  he  come,  deducing  to  this  point, 
And  then  concluded  :   "  For  this  cause  behoves, 
The  roots,  from  whence  your  operations  come. 
Must  differ.     Therefore  one  is  Solon  born; 
Another,  Xerxes;  and  Melchisedec 
A  third  ;   and  he  a  fourth,  whose  airy  voyage 


PARADISE.-CANTO   VIII. 

Cost  him  his  son.      In  her  circuitous  course, 

Nature,  that  is  the  seal  to  mortal  wax, 

Doth  well  her  art,  but  no  distinction  owns 

'Twixt  one  or  other  household.     Hence  befalls 

That  Esau  is  so  wide  of  Jacob  :    hence 

Quirinus    of  so  base  a  father  springs, 

He  dates  from  Mars  his  lineage.     Were  it  not 

That  Providence  celestial  overruled, 

Nature,  in  generation,  must  the  path 

Traced  by  the  generator  still  pursue 

Unswervingly.      Thus  place  I  in  thy  sight 

That,  which  was  late  behind  thee.      But,  in  sign 

Of  more  affection  for  thee,  'tis  my  will 

Thou  wear  this  corollary.      Nature  ever, 

Finding  discordant  fortune,  like  all  seed 

Out  of  its  proper  climate,  thrives  but  ill. 

And  were  the  world  below  content  to  mark 

And  work  on  the  foundation  nature  lays, 

It  would  not  lack  supply  of  excellence. 

But  ye  perversely  to  religion  strain 

Him,  who  was  born  to  gird  on  him  the  sword, 

And  of  the  fluent  phraseman  make  your  king  : 

Therefore    your  steps  have  wander'd  from  the  path.* 


193 


CANTO      IX. 


ARGUMENT. 


rhe  next  spirit,  who  converses  with  our  Poet  in  the  planet  Venus,  is  the  amorous  CunJia.    To  her  tucceedi  Foloo, 
or  Folques,  the  Provencal  bard,  who  declares  that  the  soul  of  Rahab  the  harlot  is  there  also  ;  and  then,  bli 
the  Pope  for  his  neglect  of  the  Holy  Land,  prognosticates  some  reverse  to  the  Papal  power. 

AFTER   solution  of  my  doubt,  thy  Charles, 
O  fair  Clemenza,    of  the  treachery     spake, 
That  must  befall  his  seed  :    but,  "  Tell  it  not," 
Said  he,  "  and  let  the  destined  years  come  round." 
Nor  may  I  tell  thee  more,  save  that  the  meed 
Of  sorrow  well-deserved  shall  quit  your  wrongs. 

And  now  the  visage  of  that  saintly  light 
Was  to  the  sun,  that  fills  it,  turn'd  again. 
As  to  the  good,  whose  plenitude  of  bliss 
Sufficeth  all.      O  ye  misguided  souls  I 
Infatuate,  who  from  such  a  good  estrange 
Your  hearts,  and  bend  your  gaze  on  vanity, 
Alas  for  you  I — And  lo  I    toward  me,  next 
Another  of  those  splendent  forms  approach'd. 
That,  by  its  outward  brightening,  testified 
The  will  it  had  to  pleasure  me.     The  eyes 
Of  Beatrice,  resting,  as  before, 
Firmly  upon  me,  manifested  forth 
Approval  of  my  wish.     "  And  O,"  I  cried, 
"  Blest  spirit  I    quickly  be  my  will  perform'd ; 
And  prove  thou  to  me,    that  my  inmost  thoughts 
I  can  reflect  on  thee."    Thereat  the  light, 
That  yet  was  new  to  me,  from  the  recess, 
Where  it  before  was  singing,  thus  began. 


PARADISE.— CANTO   IX.  195 

As  one  who  joys  in  kindness :    "  In  that  part 

Of  the  depraved  Italian  land,  which  lies 

Between  Rialto  and  the  fountain-springs 

Of  Brenta  and  of  Piava,  there  doth  rise, 

But  to  no  lofty  eminence,  a  hill, 

From  whence  erewhile  a  firebrand  did  descend, 

That  sorely  shent  the  region.     From  one  root 

I  and  it  sprang;   my  name  on  earth  Cunizza: 

And  here  I  glitter,  for  that  by  its  light 

This  star  o'ercame  me.     Yet  I  nought  repine, 

Nor  grudge  myself  the  cause  of  this  my  lot : 

Which  haply  vulgar  hearts  can  scarce  conceive.  • 

"  This    jewel,  that  is  next  me  in  our  heaven, 
Lustrous  and  costly,  great  renown  hath  left. 
And   not  to  perish,  ere  these  hundred  years 
Five  times-  absolve  their  round.      Consider  thou. 
If  to  excel  be  worthy  man's  endeavour, 
When  such  life  may  attend  the  first.       Yet  they 
Care  not  for  this,  the  crowd    that  now  are  girt 
By  Adice  and  Tagliamento,  still 
Impenitent,  though  scourged.      The  hour  is  near 
When  for  their  stubbornness,  at  Padua's  marsh 
The  water  shall  be  changed,  that  laves  Vicenza. 
And  where  Cagnano  meets  with  Sile,  one 
Lords  it,  and  bears  his  head  aloft,  for  whom 
The  web    is  now  a-warpmg.      Feltro    too 
Shall  sorrow  for  its  godless  shepherd's  fault. 
Of  so  deep  stain,  that  never,  for  the  like, 
Was  Malta's    bar  unclosed.     Too  large  should  be 
The  skillet    that  would  hold  Ferrara's  blood, 
And  wearied  he,  who  ounce  by  ounce  would  weigh  it. 
The  which  this  priest,    in  show  of  party-zeal, 
Courteous  will  give;    nor  will  the  gift  ill  suit 
The  country's  custom.      We  descry'   above 
Mirrors,  ye  call  them  thrones,  from  which  to  us 
Reflected  shine  the  judgments  of  our  God : 


196  THE    VISION. 

Whence  these  our  sayings  we  avouch  for  good." 
She  ended  ;   and  appcar'd  on  other  thoughts 
Intent,  re-entering  on  the  wheel  she  late 
Had  left.      That  other  joyance    meanwhile  wax'd 
A  thing  to  marvel  at,    in  splendour  glowing, 
Like  choicest  ruby'   stricken  by  the  sun. 
For,  in  that  upper  clime,  effulgence      comes 
Of  gladness,  as  here  laughter:    and  below. 
As  the  mind  saddens,  murkier  grows  the  shade. 
"  God  seeth  all :    and  in  him  is  thy  sight," 
Said  I,  "blest  spirit  I   Therefore  will  of  his 
'  Cannot  to  thee  be  dark.      Why  then  delays 

Thy  voice  to  satisfy  my  wish  untold  ; 
That  voice,  which  joins  the  inexpressive  song, 
Pastime  of  heaven,  the  which  those  ardours  sing, 
That  cowl  them  with  six  shadowing  wings      outspread? 
I  would  not  wait  thy  asking,  wert  thou  known 
To  me,  as  throughly  I  to  thee  am  known." 

He,  forthwith  answering,  thus  his  words  began: 
"  The  valley  of  waters,    widest  next  to  that 
Which  doth  the  earth  engarland,  shapes  its  course^ 
Between  discordant  shores,    against  the  sun 
Inward  so  far,  it  makes  meridian     there. 
Where  was  before  the  horizon.      Of  that  vale 
Dwelt  I  upon  the  shore,  'twixt  Ebro's  stream 
And  Macra's,    that  divides  with  passage  brief 
Genoan  bounds  from  Tuscan.     East  and  west 
Are  nearly  one  to  Begga    and  my  land 
Whose  haven    erst  was  with  its  own  blood  warm. 
Who  knew  my  name,  were  wont  to  call  me  Folco; 
And  I  did  bear  impression  of  this  heaven, 
That  now  bears  mine:  for  not  with  fiercer  flame 
Glow'd  Belus'  daughter,    injuring  alike 
Sichaeus  and  Creusa,  than  did  I, 
Long  as  it  suited  the  unripen'd  down 


96—131  I'ARADISE.— CANTO    IX.  I97 

That  fledged  my  cheek;  nor  she  of  Rhodope, 

That  was  beguiled  of  Demophoon; 

Nor  Jove's  son,     when  the  charms  of  lole 

Were  shrined  within  his  heart.     And  yet  there  bides 

No  sorrowful  repentance  here,  but  mirth. 

Not  for  the  fault  (that  doth  not  come  to  mind), 

But  tor  the  virtue,  whose  o'erruling  sway 

And  providence  have  wrought  thus  quaintly.     Here 

The  skill  is  lookd  into,  that  fashioneth 

With  such  effectual  working,     and  the  good 

Discern 'd,  accruing  to  the  lower  world 

From  this  above.     But  fully  to  content 

Thy  wishes  all  that  in  this  sphere  have  birth. 

Demands  my  further  parle.     Inquire  thou  wouldst, 

Who  of  this  light  is  denizen,  that  here 

Beside  me  sparkles,  as  the  sunbeam  doth 

On  the  clear  wave.      Know  then,  the  soul  of  Rahab 

Is  in  that  gladsome  harbour;  to  our  tribe 

United,  and  the  foremost  rank  assign'd. 

She  to  this  heaven,    at  which  the  shadow  ends 

Of  your  sublunar  world,  was  taken  up. 

First,  in  Christ's  triumph,  of  all  souls  redeem'd: 

For  well  behoved,  that,  in  some  part  of  heaven, 

She  should  remain  a  trophy,  to  declare 

The  mighty  conquest  won  with  either  palm ; 

For  that  she  favour'd  first  the  high  exploit 

Of  Joshua  on  the  Holy  Land,  whereof 

The  Pope    recks  little  now.      Thy  city,  plant 

Of  him,    that  on  his  Maker  turn'd  the  back, 

And  of  whose  envying  so  much  woe  hath  sprung, 

Engenders  and  expands  the  cursed  flower, 

That  hath  made  wander  both  the  sheep  and  lambs, 

Turning  the  shepherd  to  a   wolf.     For  this, 

The  gospel  and  great  teachers  laid  aside. 

The  decretals,    as  their  stuft  margins  show, 

Are  the  sole  study.      Pope  and  Cardinals, 


'98  THE    VISION. 


Intent  on  these,  ne'er  journey  but  in  thought 
To  Nazareth,  where  Gabriel  oped  his  wings. 
Yet  it  may  chance,  ere  long,  the  Vatican, 
And  other  most  selected  parts  of  Rome, 
That  were  the  grave  of  Peter's  soldiery, 
Shall  be  deliver'd  from  the  adulterous  bond." 


CANTO     X. 


ARGUMENT. 


Their  not  aMent  carries  them  Into  the  sun,  which  is  the  fourth  heaven.  Here  they  are  encompassed  with  a  wreath 
of  blessed  spirits,  twelve  in  number.  Thomas  Aquinas,  who  is  one  of  these,  declares  the  names  and  endowments 
of  thf  rest. 

LOOKING  into  his  first-born  with  the  love 
Which  breathes  from  both  eternal,  the  first  Might 
Ineffable,  wherever  eye  or  mind 
Can  roam,  hath  in  such  order  all  disposed, 
As  none  may  see  and  fail  to  enjoy.     Raise,  then, 
O  reader  1   to  the  lofty  wheels,  with  me. 
Thy  ken  directed  to  the  point,    whereat 
One  motion  strikes  on  the  other.     There  begin 
Thy  wonder  of  the  mighty  Architect, 
Who  loves  his  work  so  inwardly,  his  eye 
Doth  ever  watch  it.     See,  how  thence  oblique 
Brancheth  the  circle,  where  the  planets  roll 
To  pour  their  wished  influence  on  the  world ; 
Whose  path  not  bending  thus,  in  heaven  above 
Much  virtue  would  be  lost,  and  here  on  earth 
All  power  well  nigh  extinct ;   or,  from  direct 
Were  its  departure  distant  more  or  less, 
r  the  universal  order,  great  defect 
Must,  both  in  heaven  and  here  beneath,  ensue. 

Now  rest  thee,  reader  I    on  thy  bench,  and  muse 
Anticipative  of  the  feast  to  come; 
So  shall  delight  make  thee  not  feel  thy  toil. 
Lo!    I  have  set  before  thee;   for  thyself 


THE   VISION. 

Feed  now:   the  matter  I  indite,  henceforth 

Demands  entire  my  thought.     Join'd  with  the  part, 

Which  late  we  told  of,  the  great  minister 

Of  nature,  that  upon  the  world   imprints 

The  virtue  of  the  heaven,  and  doles  out 

Time  for  us  with  his  beam,  went  circling  on 

Along  the  spires,    where     each  hour  sooner  comes ; 

And  I  was  with  him,  weetless  of  ascent, 

But  as  a  man,    that  weets  him  come,  ere  thinking. 

For  Beatrice,  she  who  passeth  on 
So  suddenly  from  good  to  better,  time 
Counts  not  the  act,  oh  then  how  great  must  needs 
Have  been  her  brightness!     What  there  was  i'  th'  sun 
(Where  I  had  entered),  not  through  change  of  hue. 
But  light  transparent — did   I  summon  up 
Genius,  art,  practice — I  might  not  so  spv.-.i'; 
It  should  be  e'er  imagined  :   yet  believed 
It  may  be,  and  the  sight  be  justly  craved. 
And  if  our  fantasy  fail  of  such  height. 
What  marvel,  since  no  eye  above  the  sun 
Hath  ever  travel'd?      Such  are  they  dwell  hero 
Fourth  family  of  the  Omnipotent  Sire, 
Who  of  his  spirit  and  of  his  offspring     shows; 
And  holds  them  still  enraptured  with  the  view. 
And  thus  to  me  Beatrice :    "  Thank,  oh  thank 
The  Sun  of  angels,  him,  who  by  his  grace 
To  this  perceptible  hath  lifted  thee." 

Never  was  heart  in  such  devotion  bound, 
And  with  complacency  so  absolute 
Disposed  to  render  up  itself  to  God, 
As  mine  was  at  those  words :   and  so  entire 
The  love  for  Him,  that  held  me,  it  eclipsed 
Beatrice  in  oblivion.      Nought  displeased 
Was  she,  but  smiled  thereat  so  joyously. 
That  of  her  laughing  eyes  the  radiance  brake 
And  scattered  my  collected  mind  abroad. 


6o— 95- 


PARADISE.-CANTO   X. 

Then  saw  I  a  bright  band,  in  liveliness 
Surpassing,  who  themselves  did  make  the  crown, 
A.nd  us  their  centre:   yet  more  sweet  in  voice, 
Than,  in  their  visage,  beaming.      Cinctured  thus, 
Sometime  Latona's  daughter  we  behold, 
When  the  impregnate  air  retains  the  thread 
That  weaves  her  zone.      In  the  celestial  court, 
Whence  I  return,  are  many  jewels  found, 
So  dear  and  beautiful,  they  cannot  brook 
Transporting  from  that  realm  :   and  of  these  lights 
Such  was  the  song.      Who  doth  not  prune  his  wing 
To  soar  up  thither,  let  him     look  from  thence 
For  tidings  from  the  dumb.     When,  singing  thus, 
Those  burning  suns  had  circled  round  us  thrice, 
As  nearest  stars  around  the  fixed  pole ; 
Then  seem'd  they  like  to  ladies,  from  the  dance 
Not  ceasing,  but  suspense,  in  silent  pause. 
Listening,  till  they  have  caught  the  strain  anew: 
Suspended  so  they  stood  :    and,  from  within, 
Thus  heard  I  one,  who  spake:    "Since  with  its  beam 
The  grace,  whence  true  love  lighteth  first  his  fiame. 
That  after  doth  increase  by  loving,  shines 
So  multiplied  in  thee,  it  leads  thee  up 
Along  this  ladder,  down  whose  hallow'd  steps 
None  e'er  descend,  and  mount  them  not  again; 
Who  from  his  phial  should  refuse  thee  wine 
To  slake  thy  thirst,  no  less  constrained     were, 
Than  water  flowing  not  unto  the  sea. 

Thou  fain  wouldst  hear,  what  plants  are  these,  that  bloom 
In  the  bright  garland,  which,  admiring,  girds 
This  fair  dame  round,  who  strengthens  thee  for  heaven. 
I,  then,    was  of  the  lambs,  that  Dominic 
Leads,  for  his  saintly  flock,  along  the  way 
Where  well  they  thrive,  not  swoln  with  vanity. 
He,  nearest  on  my  right  hand,  brother  was, 
And  master  to  me :    Albert  of  Cologne.- 


THE    VISION. 

Is  this;   and,  of  Aquinum,  Thomas     I. 

If  thou  of  all  the  rest  wouldst  be  assured, 

Let  thine  eye,  waiting  on  the  words  I  speak, 

In  circuit  journey  round  the  blessed  wreath. 

That  next  resplendence  issues  from  the  smile 

Of  Gratian,    who  to  either  forum     lent 

Such  help,  as  favour  wins  in  Paradise. 

The  other,  nearest,  who  adorns  our  quire, 

Was  Peter,    he  that  with  the  widow  gave 

To  holy  church  his  treasure.     The  fifth  light, 

Goodliest  of  all,  is  by  such  love  inspired. 

That  all  your  world  craves  tidings  of  his  doom: 

Within,  there  is  the  lofty  light,  endow'd 

With  sapience  so  profound,  if  truth  be  truth, 

That  with  a  ken  of  such  wide  amplitude 

No  second  hath  arisen.     Next  behold 

That  taper's  radiance,    to  whose  view  was  shown, 

Clearliest,  the  nature  and  the  ministry 

Angelical,  while  yet  in  flesh  it  dwelt. 

In  the  other  little  light  serenely  smiles 

That  pleader    for  the  Christian  temples,  he, 

Who  did  provide  Augustin  of  his  lore. 

Now,  if  thy  mind's  eye  pass  from  light  to  light. 

Upon  my  praises  following,  of  the  eighth 

Thy  thirst  is  next.     The  saintly  soul,  that  shows 

The  world's  deceitfulness,  to  all  who  hear  him, 

Is,  with  the  sight  of  all  the  good  that  is. 

Blest  there.     The  limbs,  whence  it  was  driven,  lie 

Down  in  Cieldauro;      and  from  martyrdom 

And  exile  came  it  here.     Lo  I    further  on, 

Where  flames  the  ardurous  spirit  of  Isidore; 

Of  Bede;      and  Richard,    more  than  man,  erewhile, 

In  deep  discernment.     Lastly  this,  from  whom 

Thy  look  on  me  reverteth,  was  the  beam 

Of  one,  whose  spirit,  on  high  musings  bent, 

Rebuked  the  lingering  tardiness  of  death. 


PARADISE.— CANTO   X. 

It  is  the  eternal  light  of  Sigebert, 

Who  escaped  not  envy,  when  of  truth  he  argued, 

Reading  in  the  straw-litter'd  street."       Forthwith, 

As  clock,  that  calleth  up  the  spouse  of  God 

To  win  her  bridegroom's  love  at  matin's  hour, 

Each  part  of  other  fitly  drawn  and  urged. 

Sends  out  a  tinkling  sound,  of  note  so  sweet, 

Affection  springs  in  well-disposed  breast ; 

Thus  saw  I  move  the  glorious  wheel ;   thus  heard 

Voice  answering  voice,  so  musical  and  soft, 

It  can  be  known  but  where  day  endless  shines. 


203 


CANTO    XI, 


ARGUMENT. 


Aquinas  enters  at  Urge  into  the  life  and  character  of  St.  Francis ;  and  then  solves  one  of  two 
which  he  perceived  to  have  risen  in  Dante's  mind  from  what  he  had  beard  in  the  last  cmnto. 

/^   FOND  anxiety  of  mortal  men  I 

^-^^      How  vain  and  inconclusive  arguments 

Are  those,  which  make  thee  beat  thy  wings  below. 

For  statutes  one,  and  one  for  aphorisms 

Was  hunting;   this  the  priesthood  follow'd ;    that, 

By  force  or  sophistry,  aspired  to  rule; 

To  rob,  another  ;    and  another  sought. 

By  civil  business,  wealth ;   one,  moiling,  lay 

Tangled  in  net  of  sensual  delight ; 

And  one  to  wistless  indolence  resign'd  ; 

What  time  from  all  these  empty  things  escaped, 

With  Beatrice,  I  thus  gloriously 

Was  raised  aloft,  and  made  the  guest  of  heaven. 

They  of  the  circle  to  that  point,  each  one, 
Where  erst  it  was,  had  turn'd ;   and  steady  glow'd, 
As  candle  in  his  socket.      Then  within 
The  lustre,    that  erewhile  bespake  me,  smiling 
With  merer  gladness,  heard  I  thus  begin : 

"  E'en  as  his  beam  illumes  me,  so  I  look 
Into  the  eternal  light,  and  clearly  mark 
Thy  thoughts  from  whence  they  rise.      Thou  art  in  doubt. 
And  wouldst  that  I  should  bolt  my  words  afresh 
In  such  plain  open  phrase,  as  may  be  smooth 
To  thy  perception,  where  I  told  thee  late 
That  'well  they  thrive;'     and  that  'no  second  such 
Hath  risen,'  which  no  small  distinction  needs. 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XI.  205 

"The  Providence,  that  governeth  the  world, 
In  depth  of  counsel  by  created  ken 
Unfathomable,  to  the  end  that  she, 
Who  with  loud  cries  was  'spoused  in  precious  blood, 
Might  keep  her  footing  towards  her  well-beloved, 
Safe  in  herself  and  constant  unto  him, 
Hath  two  ordain'd,  who  should  on  either  hand 
In-  chief  escort  her :   one,    seraphic  all 
In  fervency;    for  wisdom  upon  earth, 
The  other,    splendour  of  cherubic  light. 
I  but  of  one  will  tell :    he  tells  of  both, 
Who  one  commendeth,  which  of  them  soe'er 
Be  taken :    for  their  deeds  were  to  one  end. 

"  Between  Tupino,    and  the  wave  that  falls 
From  blest  Ubaldo's  chosen  hill,  there  hangs 
Rich  slope  of  mountain  high,  whence  heat  and  cold 
A.re  wafted  through  Perugia's  eastern  gate: 
\nd  Nocera  with  Gualdo,  in  its  rear. 
Mourn  for  their  heavy  yoke.       Upon  that  side, 
Where  it  doth  break  its  steepness  most,  arose 
A  sun  upon  the  world,  as  duly  this 
From  Ganges  doth  :   therefore  let  none,  who  speak 
Of  that  place,  say  Ascesi;   for  its  name 
Were  lamely  so  deliver'd  :    but  the  East, 
To  call  things  rightly,  be  it  henceforth  styled. 
He  was  not  yet  much  distant  from  his  rising. 
When  his  good  influence  'gan  to  bless  the  earth. 
A  dame,    to  whom  none  openeth  pleasure's  gate 
More  than  to  death,  was,  'gainst  his  father's  will, 
His  stripling  choice:   and  he  did  make  her  his, 
Before  the  spiritual  court,      by  nuptial  bonds, 
And  in  his  father's  sight:   from  day  to  day, 
Then  loved  her  more  devoutly.      She,  bereaved 
Of  her  first  husband,    slighted  and  obscure. 
Thousand  and  hundred  years  and  more,  remain'd 
Without  a  single  suitor,  till  he  came. 


2o6  THE    VISION.  63—98. 

Nor  aught  avail'd,  that,  with  Amyclas,    she 
Was  found  unmoved  at  rumour  of  his  voice, 
Who  shook  the  world  :   nor  aught  her  constant  boldness 
Whereby  with  Christ  she  mounted  on  the  cross. 
When  Mary  stay'd  beneath.      But  not  to  deal 
Thus  closely  with  thee  longer,  take  at  large 
The  lovers'  titles — Poverty  and  Francis. 
Their  concord  and  glad  looks,  wonder  and  love, 
And  sweet  regard  gave  birth  to  holy  thoughts, 
So  much,  that  venerable  Bernard     first 
Did  bare  his  feet,  and,  in  pursuit  of  peace 
So  heavenly,  ran,  yet  deem'd  his  footing  slow. 
O  hidden  riches  1    O  prolific  good  I 
Egidius    bares  him  next,  and  next  Sylvester, 
And  follow,  both,  the  bridegroom  :    so  the  bride 
Can  please  them.      Thenceforth  goes  he  on  his  way 
The  father  and  the  master,  with  his  spouse, 
And  with  that  family,  whom  now  the  cord 
Girt  humbly:    nor  did  abjectness  of  heart 
'  Weigh  down  his  eyelids,  for  that  he  was  son 

Of  Pietro  Bernardone,    and  by  men 
In  wondrous  sort  despised.      But  royally 
His  hard  intention  he  to  Innocent 
Set  forth  :   and,  from  him,  first  received  the  seal 
On  his  religion.      Then,  when  numerous  flock'd 
The  tribe  of  lowly  ones,  that  traced  his  steps, 
Whose  marvellous  life  deservedly  were  sung 
In  heights  empyreal  ;   though  Honorius'    hand 
A  second  crown,  to  deck  their  Guardian's  virtues, 
Was  by  the  eternal  Spirit  inwreathed  :   and  when 
He  had,  through  thirst  of  martyrdom,  stood  up 
In  the  proud  Soldan's  presence,    and  there  preach'd 
Christ  and  his  followers,  but  found  the  race 
Unripen'd  for  conversion ;    back  once  more 
He  hasted  (not  to  intermit  his  toil). 
And  reap'd  Ausonian  lands.     On  the  hard  rock, 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XI. 

'Twixt  Arno  and  the  Tiber,  he  from  Christ 
Took  the  last  signet,    which  his  limbs  two  years 
Did  carry.     Then,  the  season  come  that  he, 
Who  to  such  good  had  destined  him,  was  pleased 
To  advance  him  to  the  meed,  which  he  had  earn'd 
By  his  self-humbling;   to  his  brotherhood, 
As  their  just  heritage,  he  gave  in  charge 
His  dearest  lady :     and  enjoin'd  their  love 
And  faith  to  her ;   and,  from  her  bosom,  will'd 
His  goodly  spirit  should  move  forth,  returning 
To  its  appointed  kingdom  ;    nor  would  have 
His  body    laid  upon  another  bier. 

"Think  now  of  one,  who  were  a  fit  colleague 
To  keep  the  bark  of  Peter,  in  deep  sea, 
Helm'd  to  right  point ;   and  such  our  Patriarch    was. 
Therefore  who  follow  him  as  he  enjoins, 
Thou  mayst  be  certain,  take  good  lading  in. 
But  hunger  of  new  viands  tempts  his  flock  ; 
So  that  they  needs  into  strange  pastures  wide 
Must  spread  them  :   and  the  more  remote  from  him 
The  stragglers  wander,  so  much  more  they  come 
Home,  to  the  sheep-fold,  destitute  of  milk. 
There  are  of  them,  in  truth,  who  fear  their  harm, 
And  to  the  shepherd  cleave  ;    but  these  so  few, 
A  little  stuff  may  furnish  out  their  cloaks. 

"  Now,  if  my  words  be  clear ;    if  thou  have  ta'en 
Good  heed  ;    if  that,  which  I  have  told,  recall 
To  mind ;   thy  wish  may  be  in  part  fulfill'd  : 
For  thou  wilt  see  the  plant  from  whence  they  split; 
And  he  shall  see,  who  girds  him,  what  that  means, 
'That  well  they  thrive,  not  swoln  with  vanity.'" 


207 


CANTO     XII. 


ARGUMENT. 


A  MCood  circle  of  glorified  souls  encompasses  the  first.     Buonaventura,  who  it  one  of  them,  celebrmtca  the  pndat*  d 
Saint  Dominic,  and  informs  Dante  who  the  other  eleven  are  thsft  are  in  this  second  circle  or  garland. 

OOON  as  its  final  word  the  blessed  flame 

*^      Had  raised  for  utterance,  straight  the  holy  mill 

Began  to  wheel ;   nor  yet  had  once  revolved, 

Or  e'er  another,  circling,  compass'd  it. 

Motion  to  motion,  song  to  song,  conjoining; 

Song,  that  as  much  our  muses  doth  excel. 

Our  Syrens  with  their  tuneful  pipes,  as  ray 

Of  primal  splendour  doth  its  faint  reflex. 

As  when,  if  Juno  bid  her  handmaid  forth, 
Two  arches  parallel,  and  trick'd  alike. 
Span  the  thin  cloud,  the  outer  taking  birth 
From  that  within  (in  manner  of  that  voice 
Whom  love  did  melt  away,  as  sun  the  mist) 
And  they  who  gaze,  presageful  call  to  mind 
The  compact,  made  with  Noah,  of  the  world 
No  more  to  be  o'erflow'd  ;  about  us  thus, 
Of  sempiternal  roses,  bending,  wreathed 
Those  garlands  twain;   and  to  the  innermost 
E'en  thus  the  external  answer'd.     When  the  footing, 
And  other  great  festivity,  of  song, 
And  radiance,  light  with  light  accordant,  each 
Jocund  and  blythe,  had  at  their  pleasure  still'd 
(E'en  as  the  eyes,  by  quick  volition  moved. 
Are  shut  and  raised  together),  from  the  heart 
Of  one    amongst  the  new  lights    moved  a  voice, 
That  made  me  seem    like  needle  to  the  star, 


About  us  thus, 
Of  sempiternal   roses,  bending,  wreathed 
Those  garlands  twain  ;  and  to  the  innermost 
E'en  thus  the  external  answer'd. 

Cattle  XII.,  lines  J  6- 1 9. 


And  I  beheld  myself, 
Sole  with  my  lady,  to  more  lofty  bliss 
Translated. 

Canto  XIV. 


?7-62.  PARADISE.— CANTO   XII.  209 

In  turning  to  its  whereabout ;    and  thus 

Began:    "The  love,    that  makes  me  beautiful, 

Prompts  me  to  tell  of  the  other  guide,  for  whom 

Such  good  of  mine  is  spoken.     Where  one  is, 

The  other  worthily  should  also  be  ; 

That  as  their  warfare  was  alike,  alike 

Should  be  their  glory.     Slow,  and  full  of  doubt, 

And  with  thin  ranks,  after  its  banner  moved 

The  army  of  Christ  (which  it  so  dearly  cost 

To  reappoint),  when  its  imperial  Head, 

Who  reigneth  ever,  for  the  drooping  host 

Did  make  provision,  thorough  grace  alone, 

And  not  through  its  deserving.     As  thou  heard'st, 

Two  champions  to  the  succour  of  his  spouse 

He  sent,  who  by  their  deeds  and  words  might  join 

Again  his  scatter'd  people.     In  that  clime 

Where  springs  the  pleasant  west-wind  to  unfold 

The  fresh  leaves,  with  which  Europe  sees  herself 

New-garmented  ;•  nor  from  those  billows    far 

Beyond  whose  chiding,  after  weary  course. 

The  sun  doth  sometimes    hide  him  ;   safe  abides 

The  happy  Callaroga,     under  guard 

Of  the  great  shield,  wherein  the  lion  lies 

Subjected  and  supreme.     And  there  was  born 

The  loving  minion  of  the  Christian  faith, 

The  hallow'd  wrestler,  gentle    to  his  own, 

And  to  his  enemies  terrible.     So  replete 

His  soul  with  lively  virtue,  that  when  first 

Created,  even  in  the  mother's  womb, 

It  prophesied.     When,  at  the  sacred  font. 

The  spousals  were  complete  'twixt  faith  and  him, 

Where  pledge  of  mutual  safety  was  exchanged. 

The  dame,    who  was  his  surety,  in  her  sleep 

Beheld  the  wondrous  fruit,  that  was  from  him 

And  from  his  heirs  to  issue.      And  that  such 

He  might  be  construed,  as  indeed  he  was. 


THE    VISION.  63^95^ 

She  was  inspired  to  name  him  of  his  owner 

Whose  he  was  wholly ;   and  so  call'd  him  Dominic 

And  I  speak  of  him,  as  the  labourer, 

Whom  Christ  in  his  own  garden  chose  to  be 

His  help-mate.      Messenger  he  seem'd,  and  friend 

Fast-knit  to  Christ ;   and  the  first  love  he  show'd, 

Was  after  the  first  counsel    that  Christ  ga\c. 

Many  a  time    his  nurse,  at  entering,  found 

That  he  had  risen  in  silence,  and  was  prostrate, 

As  who  should  say,  '  My  errand  was  for  this.' 

O  happy  father!    Felix    rightly  named. 

O  favoured  mother!    rightly  named  Joanna; 

If  that  do  mean,  as  men   interpret  it. 

Not  for  the  world's  sake,  for  which  now  they  toil 

Upon  Ostiense    and  Taddeo's    lore, 

But  for  the  real  manna,  soon  he  grew 

Mighty  in  learning;   and  did  set  himself 

To  go  about  the  vineyard,  that  soon  turns 

To  wan  and  wither'd,  if  not  tended  well : 

And  from  the  see    (whose  bounty  to  the  just 

And  needy  is  gone  by,  not  through  its  fault, 

But  his  who  fills  it  basely)  he  besought. 

No  dispensation     for  commuted  wrong. 

Nor  the  first  vacant  fortune,    nor  the  tenths 

That  to  God's  paupers  rightly  appertain. 

But,  'gainst  an  erring  and  degenerate  world. 

Licence  to  fight,  in  favour  of  that  seed 

From  which  the  twice  twelve  cions  gird  thee  round. 

Then,  with  sage  doctrine  and  good  will  to  help, 

Forth  on  his  great  apostleship  he  fared. 

Like  torrent  bursting  from  a  lofty  vein  ; 

And,  dashing  'gainst  the  stocks  of  heresy, 

Smote  fiercest,  where  resistance  was  most  stout. 

Thence  many  rivulets  have  since  been  turn'd 

Over  the  garden  catholic  to  lead 

Their  living  waters,  and  have  fed  its  plants. 

"  If  such,  one  wheel    of  that  two-yokeil  car. 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XII. 

Wherein  the  holy  church  defended  her, 

And  rode  triumphant  through  the  civil  broil ; 

Thou  canst  not  doubt  its  fellow's  excellence, 

Which  Thomas,    ere  my  coming,  hath  declared 

So  courteously  unto  thee.      But  the  track, 

Which  its  smooth  fellies  made,  is  now  deserted : 

That,  mouldy  mother  is,  where  late  were  lees. 

His  family,  that  wont  to  trace  his  path, 

Turn  backward,  and  invert  their  steps  ;  erelong 

To  rue  the  gathering  in  of  their  ill  crop. 

When  the  rejected  tares    in  vain  shall  ask 

Admittance  to  the  barn.      I  question  not 

But  he,  who  search  d  our  volume,  leaf  by  leaf, 

Might  still  find  page  with  this  inscription  on't, 

'  I  am  as  I  was  wont.'      Yet  such  were  not 

From  Acquasparta  nor  Casale,  whence, 

Of  those  who  come  to  meddle  with  the  text, 

One  stretches  and  another  cramps  its  rule. 

Bonaventura's  life  in  me  behold, 

From  Bagnoregio ;   one,  who,  in  discharge 

Of  my  great  offices,  still  laid  aside 

All  sinister  aim.      Illuminato  here, 

And  Agostino    join  me  :    two  they  were, 

Among  the  first  of  those  barefooted  meek  ones. 

Who  sought  God's  friendship  in  the  cord  :   with  them 

Hugues  of  Saint  Victor  ;     Pietro  Mangiadore  ; 

And  he  of  Spain    in  his  twelve  volumes  shining; 

Nathan  the  prophet ;    Metropolitan 

Chrysostom  ;     and  Anselmo  ;     and,  who  deign'd 

To  put  his  hand  to  the  first  art,  Donatus. 

Raban    is  here ;   and  at  my  side  there  shines 

Calabria's  abbot,  Joachim,    endow'd 

With  soul  prophetic.      The  bright  courtesy 

Of  friar  Thomas  and  his  goodly  lore. 

Have  moved  me  to  the  blazon  of  a  peer 

So  worthy;   and  with  me  have  moved  this  throng." 


CANTO     XIII. 


ARGUMENT. 


Aquinas  resumes  his  ipeech.     He  solves  the  other  of  those  doubts  which  he  discerned  In  the  mind  of  DanM^ 
and  warns  hin.  earnestly  against  assenting  to  any  proposition  without  having  duly  examined  it 

T    HT  him,    who  would  conceive  what  now  I  saw, 
"^-^     Imagine  (and  retain  the  image  firm 
As  mountain  rock,  the  whilst  he  hears  me  speak), 
Of  stars,  fifteen,  from  midst  the  ethereal  host 
Selected,  that,  with  lively  ray  serene, 
O'ercome  the  massiest  air  :    thereto  imagine 
The  wain,  that,  in  the  bosom  of  our  sky, 
Spins  ever  on  its  axle  night  and  day, 
With  the  bright  summit  of  that  horn,  which  swells 
Due  from  the  pole,  round  which  the  first  wheel  rolls, 
To  have  ranged  themselves  in  fashion  of  two  signs 
In  heaven,  such  as  Ariadne  made, 
When  death's  chill  seized  her;   and  that  one  of  them 
Did  compass  in  the  other's  beam  ;   and  both 
In  such  sort  whirl  around,  that  each  should  tend 
With  opposite  motion  :    and  conceiving  thus, 
Of  that  true  constellation,  and  the  dance 
Twofold,  that  circled  me,  he  shall  attain 
As  'twere  the  shadow ;   for  things  there  as  much 
Surpass  our  usage,  as  the  swiftest  heaven 
Is  swifter  than  the  Chiana.       There  was  sung 
No  Bacchus,  and  no  lo  Paean,  but 
Three  persons  in  the  Godhead,  and  in  one 
Person  that  nature  and  the  human  join'd. 

The  song  and  round  were  measured  :    and  to  us 
Those  saintly  lights  attended,  happier  made 
At  each  new  ministering.      Then  silence  brake 


]'.\RADISE.— CANTO    XIII.  213 

Amid  the  accordant  sons  of  Deity, 

That  luminary,    in  which  the  wondrous  life 

Of  the  meek  man  of  God    was  told  to  me ; 

And  thus  it  spake  :    "  One  ear    o'  the  harvest  thresh'd 

And  its  grain  safely  stored,  sweet  charity 

Invites  me  with  the  other  to  like  toil. 

"  Thou  know'st  that  in  the  bosom,    whence  the  rib 
Was  ta'en  to  fashion  that  fair  cheek,  whose  taste 
All  the  world  pays  for ;   and  in  that,  which  pierced 
By  the  keen  lance,  both  after  and  before 
Such  satisfaction  offer'd  as  outweighs 
Each  evil  in  the  scale  ;   whate'er  of  light 
To  human  nature  is  allow'd,  must  all 
Have  by  his  virtue  been  infused,  who  form'd 
Both  one  and  other :   and  thou  thence  admirest 
In  that  I  told  thee,  of  beatitudes, 
A  second  there  is  none  to  him  enclosed 
In  the  fifth  radiance.      Open  now  thine  eyes 
To  what  I  answer  thee;   and  thou  shalt  see 
Thy  deeming  and  my  saying  meet  in  truth. 
As  centre  in  the  round.      That    which  dies  not. 
And  that  which  can  die,  are  but  each  the  beam 
Of  that  idea,  which  our  Sovereign  Sire 
Engendereth  loving ;   for  that  lively  light. 
Which  passeth  from  his  splendour,  not  disjoin'd 
From  him,  nor  from  his  love  triune  with  them, 
Doth,  through  his  bounty,  congregate  itself, 
Mirror'd,  as  'twere,  in  new  existences  ; 
Itself  unalterable,  and  ever  one. 

"  Descending  hence  unto  the  lowest  powers, 
Its  energy  so  sinks,  at  last  it  makes 
But  brief  contingencies  ;   for  so  I  name 
Things  generated,  which  the  heavenly  orbs 
Moving,  with  seed  or  without  seed,  produce. 
Their  wax,  and  that  which  molds  it,    differ  much: 
And  thence  with  lustre,  more  or  less,  it  shows 
The  ideal  stamp  imprest :    so  that  one  tree, 
According  to  his  kind,  hath  better  fruit, 


714  "I'l^   VISION. 

And  worse :   and,  at  your  birth,  ye,  mortal  men, 
Are  in  your  talents  various.      Were  the  wax 
Molded  with  nice  exactness,  and  the  heaven 
In  its  disposing  influence  supreme. 
The  brightness  of  the  seal    should  be  complete : 
But  nature  renders  it  imperfect  ever ; 
Resembling  thus  the  artist,  in  her  work, 
Whose  faltering  hand  is  faithless  to  his  skill. 
Therefore,    if  fervent  love  dispose,  and  mark 
The  lustrous  image  of  the  primal  virtue, 
There  all  perfection  is  vouchsafed  ;   and  such 
The  clay    was  made,  accomplish'd  with  each  gift. 
That  life  can  teem  with ;   such  the  burden  fiU'd 
The  virgin's  bosom  :   so  that  I  commend 
Thy  judgment,  that  the  human  nature  ne'er 
Was,  or  can  be,  such  as  in  them  it  was. 

"  Did  I  advance  no  further  than  this  point ; 
'  How  then  had  he  no  peer?'  thou  might'st  reply. 
But,  that  what  now  appears  not,  may  appear 
Right  plainly,  ponder,  who  he  was,  and  what 
(When  he  was  bidden  'Ask')  the  motive,  sway'd 
To  his  requesting       I  have  spoken  thus. 
That  thou  mayst  see,  he  was  a  king,  who  ask'd 
For  wisdom,  to  the  end  he  might  be  king 
Sufficient :    not,  the  number    to  search  out 
Of  the  celestial  movers ;   or  to  know. 
If  necessary    with  contingent  e'er 
Have  made  necessity;   or  whether  that 
Be  granted,  that  first  motion    is ;   or  if, 
Of  the  mid  circle,    can  by  art  be  made 
Triangle,  with  its  corner  blunt  or  sharp. 

"Whence,  noting  that,  which  I  have  said,  and  this, 
Thou  kingly  prudence  and  that  ken    mayst  learn, 
At  which  the  dart  of  my  intention  aims. 
And,  marking  clearly,  that  I  told  thee,  '  Risen,' 
Thou  shalt  discern  it  only  hath  respect 
To  kings,  of  whom  are  many,  and  the  good 


PARADISE.— CANTO   XIII.  215 

Are  rare.      With  this  distinction  take  my  words 
And  they  may  well  consist  with  that  which  thou 
Of  the  first  human  father  dost  believe, 
And  of  our  well-beloved.      And  let  this 
Henceforth  be  lead  unto  thy  feet,  to  make 
Thee  slow  in  motion,  as  a  weary  man, 
Both  to  the  'yea'  and  to  the  'nay'  thou  seest  not. 
For  he  among  the  fools  is  down  full  low, 
Whose  affirmation,  or  denial,    is 
Without  distinction,  in  each  case  alike. 
Since  it  befalls,  that  in  most  instances 
Current  opinion  leans  to  false :    and  then 
Affection  bends  the  judgment  to  her  ply. 

"  Much  more  than  vainly  doth  he  loose  from  shore 
Since  he  returns  not  such  as  he  set  forth, 
Who  fishes  for  the  truth  and  wanteth  skill. 
And  open  proofs  of  this  unto  the  world 
Have  been  afforded  in  Parmenides, 
Melissus,  Bryso,    and  the  crowd  beside, 
Who  journey'd  on.  and  knew  not  whither  :   so  did 
Sabellius,  Arius,    and  the  other  fools, 
Who,  like  to  scymitars,    reflected  back 
The  scripture-image  by  distortion  marr'd. 

"  Let  not  the  people  be  too  swift  to  judge; 
As  one  who  reckons  on  the  blades  in  field. 
Or  e'er  the  crop  be  ripe.      For  I  have  seen 
The  thorn  frown  rudely  all  the  winter  long. 
And  after  bear  the  rose  upon  its  top  ; 
And  bark,  that  all   her  way  across  the  sea 
Ran  straight  and  speedy,  perish  at  the  last 
E'en  in  the  haven's  mouth.     Seeing  one  steal, 
Another  bring  his  offering  to  the  priest, 
Let  not    Dame  Birtha  and  Sir  Martin    thence 
Into  heaven's  counsels  deem  that  they  can  pry: 
For  one  of  these  may  rise,  the  other  fall." 


CANTO      XIV. 


ARGUMENT. 


who  U  one  of  the  spirit!  in  the  inner  circle,  declares  what  the  appearance  of  the  blest  will  ka  after  tka 
resurrection  of  the  body.  Beatrice  and  Dante  are  translated  into  the  fifth  heaven,  which  is  that  of  Mars,  and 
here  behold  the  souls  of  those  who  had  died  fighting  for  the  true  faith,  ranged  in  the  sign  of  a  cross,  athwart 
which  the  spirits  move  to  the  sound  of  a  melodious  hymn. 

T^ROM    centre  to  the  circle,  and  so  back 

■*■        From  circle  to  the  centre,  water  moves 

In  the  round  chalice,  even  as  the  blow 

Impels  it,  inwardly,  or  from  without. 

Such  was  the  inia<^e    glanced  into  my  mind, 

As  the  great  spirit  of  Aquinum  ceased ; 

And  Beatrice,  after  him,  her  words 

Resumed  alternate :    "  Need  there  is  (though  yet 

He  tells  it  to  you  not  in  words,  nor  e'en 

In  thought)  that  he  should  fathom  to  its  depth 

Another  mystery.      Tell  him,  if  the  light, 

Wherewith  your  substance  blooms,  shall  stay  with  you 

Eternally,  as  now ;    and,  if  it  doth. 

How,  when    ye  shall  regain  your  visible  forms, 

The  sight  may  without  harm  endure  the  change, 

That  also  tell."      As  those,  who  in  a  ring 

Tread  the  light  measure,  in  their  fitful  mirth 

Raise  loud  the  voice,  and  spring  with  gladder  bound  ; 

Thus,  at  the  hearing  of  that  pious  suit. 

The  saintly  circles,  in  their  tourneying 

And  wondrous  note,  attested  new  delight. 

Whoso  laments,  that  we  must  doff  this  garb 
Of  frail  mortality,  thenceforth  to  live 
Immortally  above;    he  hath  not  seen 
The  sweet  refreshing  of  that  heavenly  shower. 


26-61.  PARADISE.— CANTO    XIV. 

Him,    who  lives  ever,  and  for  ever  reigns 
In  mystic  union  of  the  Three  in  One, 
Unbounded,  bounding  all,  each  spirit  thrice 
Sang,  with  such  melody,  as,  but  to  hear, 
For  highest  merit  were  an  ample  meed. 
And  from  the  lesser  orb  the  goodliest  light, 
With  gentle  voice  and  mild,  such  as  perhaps 
The  angel's  once  to  Mary,  thus  replied : 
"  Long  as  the  joy  of  Paradise  shall  last. 
Our  love  shall  shine  around  that  raiment,  bright 
As  fervent ;    fervent  as,  in  vision,  blest ; 
And  that  as  far,  in  blessedness,  exceeding, 
As  it  hath  grace,  beyond  its  virtue,  great. 
Our  shape,  regarmented  with  glorious  weeds 
Of  saintly  flesh,  must,  being  thus  entire. 
Show  yet  more  gracious.      Therefore  shall  increase 
Whate'er,  of  light,  gratuitous  imparts 
The  Supreme  Good  ;    light,  ministering  aid, 
The  better  to  disclose  his  glory:   whence. 
The  vision  needs  increasing,  must  increase 
The  fervour  which  it  kindles ;   and  that  too 
The  ray,  that  comes  from  it.      But  as  the  gleed 
Which  gives  out  flame,  yet  in  its  whiteness  shines 
More  livelily  than  that,  and  so  preserves 
Its  proper  semblance ;    thus  this  circling  sphere 
Of  splendour  shall  to  view  less  radiant  seem, 
Than  shall  our  fleshly  robe,  which  yonder  earth 
Now  covers.      Nor  will  such  excess  of  light 
O'erpower  us,  in  corporeal  organs  made 
Firm,  and  susceptible  of  all  delight." 

So  ready  and  so  cordial  an  "  Amen " 
Follow'd  from  either  choir,  as  plainly  spoke 
Desire  of  their  dead  bodies ;   yet  perchance 
Not  for  themselves,  but  for  their  kindred  dear. 
Mothers  and  sires,  and  those  whom  best  they  loved, 
Ere  they  were  made  imperishable  flame. 


217 


2i8  THE   VISION.  62 

And  lol   forthwith  there  rose  up  round  about 
A  lustre,  over  that  already  there; 
Of  equal  clearness,  like  the  brightening  up 
Of  the  horizon.      As  at  evening  hour 
Of  twilight,  new  appearances  through  heaven 
Peer  with  faint  glimmer,  doubtfully  descried; 
So,  there,  new  substances,  methought,  began 
To  rise  in  view  beyond  the  other  twain, 
And  wheeling,  sweep  their  ampler  circuit  wide. 

O  genuine  glitter  of  eternal  Beam  I 
With  what  a  sudden  whiteness  did  it  flow, 
O'erpowering  vision  in  me.      But  so  fair, 
So  passing  lovely,  Beatrice  show'd, 
Mind  cannot  follow  it,  nor  words  express 
Her  infinite  sweetness.      Thence  mine  eyes  regain'd 
Power  to  look  up ;   and  I  beheld  myself, 
Sole  with  my  lady,  to  more  lofty  bliss 
Translated  :    for  the  star,  with  warmer  smile 
Impurpled,  well  denoted  our  ascent. 

With  all  the  heart,  and  with  that  tongue  which  speaks 
The  same  in  all,  an  holocaust  I  made 
To  God,  befitting  the  new  grace  vouchsafed. 
And  from  my  bosom  had  not  yet  upsteam'd 
The  fuming  of  that  incense,  when  I  knew 
The  rite  accepted.      With  such  mighty  sheen 
And  mantling  crimson,  in  two  listed  rays 
The  splendours  shot  before  me,  that  I  cried, 
"God  of  SabaothI    that  dost  prank  them  thus  I" 

As  leads  the  galaxy  from  pole  to  pole, 
Distinguish'd  into  greater  lights  and  less. 
Its  pathway,    which  the  wisest  fail  to  spell; 
So  thickly  studded,  in  the  depth  of  Mars, 
Those  rays  described  the  venerable  sign. 
That  quadrants  in  the  round  conjoining  frame. 

Here  memory  mocks  the  toil  of  genius.      Christ 
Beam'd  on  that  cross  ;   and  pattern  fails  me  now. 


98—132.  PARADISE.— CANTO   XIV.  219 

But  whoso  takes  his  cross,  and  follows  Christ, 
Will  pardon  me  for  that  I  leave  untold, 
When  in  the  flecker'd  dawning  he  shall  spy 
The  glitterance  of  Christ.     From  horn  to  horn, 
And  'tween  the  summit  and  the  base,  did  move 
Lights,  scintillating,  as  they  met  and  pass'd. 
Thus  oft  are  seen  with  ever-changeful  glance, 
Straight  or  athwart,  now  rapid  and  now  slow, 
The  atomies  of  bodies,    long  or  short, 
To  move  along  the  sunbeam,  whose  slant  line 
Checkers  the  shadow  interposed  by  art 
Against  the  noontide  heat.     And  as  the  chime 
Of  minstrel  music,  dulcimer,  and  harp 
With  many  strings,  a  pleasant  dinning  makes 
To  him,  who  heareth  not  the  distinct  note  ; 
So  from  the  lights,  which  there  appear'd  to  me, 
Gather'd  along  the  cross  a  melody. 
That,  indistinctly  heard,  with  ravishment 
Possess'd  me.     Yet  I  mark'd  it  was  a  hymn 
Of  lofty  praises ;   for  there  came  to  me 
"Arise,"  and  "Conquer,"  as  to  one  who  liears 
And  comprehends  not.     Me  such  ecstasy 
O'ercame,  that  never,  till  that  hour,  was  thing 
That  held  me  in  so  sweet  imprisonment. 
Perhaps  my  saying  overbold  appears. 
Accounting  less  the  pleasure  of  those  eyes, 
Whereon  to  look  fulfilieth  all  desire. 
But  he,    who  is  aware  those  living  seals 
Of  every  beauty  work  with  quicker  force. 
The  higher  they  are  risen ;  and  that  there 
I  had  not  turn'd  me  to  them ;   he  may  well 
Excuse  me  that,  whereof  in  my  excuse 
I  do  accuse  me,  and  may  own  my  truth ; 
That  holy  pleasure  here  not  yet  reveal'd, 
Which  grows  in  transport  as  we  mount  aloof 


CANTO     XV. 


ARGUMENT. 

tht  ipiik  af  Cacciaguida,  onr  Poet's  ancestor,  glides  rapidly  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  tells  who  he  U,  and  sp<aks  '4 
the  simplicity  of  the  Florentines  in  his  days,  since  then  much  corrupted. 

'T^RUE  love,  that  ever  shows  itself  as  clear 
■*-       In  kindness,  as  loose  appetite  in  wrong, 
Silenced  that  lyre  harmonious,  and  still'd 
The  sacred  chords,  that  are  by  heaven's  right  hand 
Unwound  and  tighten'd.     How  to  righteous  prayers 
Should  they  not  hearken,  who,  to  give  me  will 
For  praying,  in  accordance  thus  were  mute? 
He  hath  in  sooth  good  cause  for  endless  grief, 
Who,  for  the  love  of  thing  that  lastcth  not, 
Despoils  himself  for  ever  of  that  love. 

As  oft  along  the  still  and  pure  serene, 
At  nightfall,  glides  a  sudden  trail  of  fire, 
Attracting  with  involuntary  heed 
The  eye  to  follow  it,  erewhile  at  rest; 
And  seems  some  star    that  shifted  place  in  heaven. 
Only  that,  whence  it  kindles,  none  is  lost, 
And  it  is  soon  extinct :   thus  from  the  horn, 
That  on  the  dexter  of  the  cross  extends, 
Down  to  its  foot,  one  luminary  ran 
From  mid  the  cluster  shone  there ;   yet  no  gem 
Dropp'd  from  its  foil :   and  through  the  beamy  list, 
Like  flame  in  alabaster,  glow'd  its  course. 

So  forward  stretch'd  him  (if  of  credence  aught 
Our  greater  muse    may  claim)  the  pious  ghost 
Of  old  Anchises,  in  the  Elysian  bower, 


PARADISE.— CANTO   XV. 

When  he  perceived  his  son.     "O  thou,  my  blood  I 

0  most  exceeding  grace  divine  I   to  whom, 
As  now  to  thee,  hath  twice  the  heavenly  gate 

Been  e'er  unclosed?"     So  spake  the  light:   whence  I 

Turn'd  me  toward  him;    then  unto  my  dame 

My  sight  directed  :    and  on  either  side 

Amazement  waited  me;   for  in  her  eyes 

Was  lighted  such  a  smile,  I  thought  that  mine 

Had  dived  unto  the  bottom  of  my  grace 

And  of  my  bliss  in  Paradise.     Forthwith, 

To  hearing  and  to  sight  grateful  alike. 

The  spirit  to  his  proem  added  things 

1  understood  not,  so  profound  he  spake: 
Yet  not  of  choice,  but  through  necessity. 
Mysterious ;   for  his  high  conception  soar'd 
Beyond  the  mark  of  mortals.     When  the  flight 
Of  holy  transport  had  so  spent  its  rage. 

That  nearer  to  the  level  of  our  thought 

The  speech  descended ;   the  first  sounds  I  heard 

Were,  "  Blest  be  thou,  Triunal  Deity  I 

That  hast  such  favour  in  my  seed  vouchsafed." 

Then  follow'd :    "  No  unpleasant  thirst,  though  long, 

Which  took  me  reading  in  the  sacred  book. 

Whose  leaves  or  white  or  dusky  never  change. 

Thou  hast  allay 'd,  my  son  I    within  this  light. 

From  whence  my  voice  thou  hear'st :    more  thanks  to  her 

Who,  for  such  lofty  mounting,  has  with  plumes 

Begirt  thee.     Thou  dost  deem  thy  thoughts  to  me 

From  Him  transmitted,  who  is  first  of  all, 

E'en  as  all  numbers  ray  from  unity; 

And  therefore  dost  not  ask  me  who  I  am, 

Or  why  to  thee  more  joyous  I  appear, 

Than  any  other  in  this  gladsome  throng. 

The  truth  is  as  thou  deem'st;   for  in  this  life 

Both  less  and  greater  in  that  mirror  look. 

In  which  thy  thoughts,  or  e'er  thou  think'st,  arc  shown. 


THE   VISION.  62-96. 

But,  that  the  love,  which  keeps  me  wakeful  ever, 
Urging  with  sacred  thirst  of  sweet  desire, 
May  be  contented  fully  ;    let  thy  voice, 
Fearless,  and  frank,  and  jocund,  utter  forth 
Thy  will  distinctly,  utter  forth  the  wish, 
Whereto  my  ready  answer  stands  decreed." 

I  turn'd  me  to  Beatrice ;   and  she  heard 
Ere  I  had  spoken,  smiling  an  assent. 
That  to  my  will  gave  wings;    and  I  began: 
"To  each  among  your  tribe,    what  time  ye  kenn'd 
The  nature,  in  whom  nought  unequal  dwells. 
Wisdom  and  love  were  in  one  measure  dealt ; 
For  that  they  are  so  equal  in  the  sun, 
From  whence  ye  drew  your  radiance  and  your  heat. 
As  makes  all  likeness  scant.     But  will  and  means, 
In  mortals,  for  the  cause  ye  well  discern. 
With  unlike  wings  are  fledge.     A  mortal,  I 
Experience  inequality  like  this  ; 
And  therefore  give  no  thanks,  but  in  the  heart. 
For  thy  paternal  greeting.     This  howe'er 
I  pray  thee,  living  topaz  I    that  ingemm'st     • 
This  precious  jewel  ;    let  me  hear  thy  name." 

"I  am  thy  root,    O  leaf!   whom  to  expect 
Even,  hath  pleased  me."     Thus  the  prompt  reply 
Prefacing,  next  it  added :    "  He,  of  whom 
Thy  kindred  appellation  comes,  and  who. 
These  hundred  years  and  more,  on  its  first  ledge 
Hath  circuited  the  mountain,  was  my  son. 
And  thy  great-grandsire.      Well  befits,  his  long 
Endurance  should  be  shorten'd  by  thy  deeds. 

"  Florence,    within  her  ancient  limit-mark. 
Which  calls  her  still    to  matijn  prayers  and  noon. 
Was  chaste  and  sober,  and  abode  in  peace. 
She  had  no  armlets  and  no  head-tires  then  ; 
No  pur  fled  dames ;   no  zone,  that  caught  the  eye 


PARADISE.— CANTO   XV.  225 

More  than  the  person  did.      Time  was  not  yet, 

When    at  his  daughter's  birth  the  sire  grew  pale," 

For  fear  the  age  and  dowry  should  exceed, 

On  each  side,  just  proportion.      House  was  none 

Void    of  its  family:    nor  yet  had  come 

Sardanapalus,    to  exhibit  feats 

Of  chamber  prowess.      Montemalo    yet 

O'er  our  suburban  turret    rose ;   as  much 

To  be  surpass'd  in  fall,  as  in  its  rising. 

I  saw  Bellincion  Berti    walk  abroad 

In  leathern  girdle,  and  a  clasp  of  bone; 

And,  with  no  artful  colouring  on  her  cheeks, 

His  lady  leave  the  glass.     The  sons  I  saw 

Of  Nerii,  and  of  Vecchio,    well  content 

With  unrobed  jerkin  ;   and  their  good  dames  handimg 

The  spindle  and  the  flax:   O  happy  they! 

Each    sure  of  burial  in  her  native  land. 

And  none  left  desolate  a-bed  in  France. 

One  waked  to  tend  the  cradle,  hushing  it 

With  sounds  that  lull'd  the  parent's  infancy: 

Another,  with  her  maidens,  drawing  off 

The  tresses  from  the  distaff,  lectured  them 

Old  tales  of  Troy,  and  Fesole,  and  Rome. 

A  Salterello  and  Cianghella    we 

Had  held  as  strange  a  marvel,  as  ye  would 

A  Cincinnatus  or  Cornelia  now. 

"  In  such  composed  and  seemly  fellowship, 
Such  faithful  and  such  fair  equality. 
In  so  sweet  household,  Mary    at  my  birth 
Bestow'd  me,  call'd  on  with  loud  cries  :   and  there, 
In  your  old  baptistery,  I  was  made 
Christian  at  once  and  Cacciaguida;  as  were 
My  brethren  Eliseo  and  Moronto. 

"From  Valciipado    came  to  me  my  spouse; 
And  hence  thy  surname  grew.      I  follow'd  then 
The  Emperor  Conrad:     and  his  knighthood  he 


224 


Tni':  VISION.  133— 140- 


Did  gird  on  me;    in  such  good  part  he  took 
My 'valiant  service.      After  him  I  went 
To  testify  against  that  evil  law, 
Whose  people,    by  the  shepherd's  fault,  possess 
Your  right  usurp'd.      There  I  by  that  foul  crew 
Was  disentangled  from  the  treacherous  world 
Whose  base  affection  many  a  spirit  soils  ; 
And  from  the  martyrdom  came  to  this  peace" 


Christ 
Beam'd  on  tliat  cross  ;  and  pattern   fails  me  now. 

Can  fa  XIV..   lines  q6,  97. 


But  so  was  doom'd : 
Florence!   on  that  inaim'd  stone  which  guards  the  bridge, 
The  victim,  when  thy  peace  departed,  fell. 

Canto  XV J.,   lin 


CANTO     XVI. 


ARGUMENT. 

Caccia^tda  i^tes  the  time  of  his  birth,  and,  describing  the  extent  of  Florence  when  he  lived  there,  recounU  the  namei 
of  the  chief  families  who  I'.ien  inhabited  it.  Its  degeneracy,  and  subsequent  disgrace,  he  attributes  tc  tb«  introduction 
of  families  from  the  neighbouring  country  and  villages,  and  to  their  mixture  with  the  primitive  citiic'**  , 

/^   SLIGHT  respect  of  man's  nobility  I 

^-^      I  never  shall  account  it  marvellous, 

That  our  infirm  affection  here  below 

Thou  movest  to  boasting;   when  I  could  not  chuse. 

E'en  in  that  region  of  unwarp'd  desire, 

In  heaven  itself,  but  make  my  vaunt  in  thee. 

Yet  cloak  thou  art  soon  shorten'd  ;    for  that  Time, 

Unless  thou  be  eked  out  from  day  to  day, 

Goes  round  thee  with  his  shears.     Resuming  men, 

With  greeting    such  as  Rome  was  first  to  bear, 

But  since  hath  disaccustom'd,  I  began: 

And  Beatrice,    that  a  little  space 

Was  sever'd,  smiled ;    reminding  me  of  her, 

Whose  cough  embolden'd  (as  the  story  holds) 

To  first  ofi"ence  the  doubting  Guenever. 

"  You  are  my  sire,"  said  I :  "  you  give  me  heart 
Freely  to  speak  my  thought:    above  myself 
You  raise  me.     Through  so  many  streams  with  joy 
My  soul  is  fill'd,  that  gladness  wells  from  it; 
So  that  it  bears  the  mighty  tide,  and  bursts  not. 
Say  then,  my  honour'd  stem  I    what  ancestors 
Were  those  you  sprang  from,  and  what  years  were  mark'd 
In  your  first  childhood?     Tell  me  of  the  fold, 


226  THE   VISION. 

That  hath  Saint  John  for  guardian,  what  was  then 
Its  state,  and  who  in  it  were  highest  seated  I" 
As  embers,  at  the  breathing  of  the  wind, 
Their  flame  enliven;    so  that  light  I  saw 
Shine  at  my  blandishments;   and,  as  it  grew 
More  fair  to  look  on,  so  with  voire  more  sweet, 
Yet  not  in  this  our  modern  phrase,  forthwith 
It  answer'd  :    *'From  the  day,    when  it  was  said 
'Hail  Virgin  r   to  the  throes  by  which  my  mother, 
Who  now  is  sainted,  lighten'd  her  of  me 
Whom  she  was  heavy  with,  this  fire  had  come 
Five  hundred  times  and  fourscore,  to  relume 
Its  radiance  underneath  the  burning  foot 
Of  its  own  lion.     They,  of  whom  I  sprang, 
And   I,  had  there  our  birth-place,  where  the  last 
Partition  of  our  city  first  is  reach'd 
By  him  that  runs  her  annual  game.     Thus  much 
Suffice  of  my  forefathers  :    who  they  were. 
And  whence  they  hither  came,  more  honourable 
It  IS  to  pass  in  silence  than  to  tell. 
All  those,  who  at  that  time  were  there,  betwixt 
Mars    and  the  Baptist,  fit  to  carry  arms, 
Were  but  the  fifth,  of  them  this  day  alive. 
But  then  the  citizen's  blood,  that  now  is  mix'd 
From  Campi  and  Certaldo  and  Fighine, 
Ran  purely  through  the  last  mechanic's  veins. 
O  how^  murh  better  were  it.  that  these  people 
Were  neighbours  to  you  ;   and  that  at  Galluzzo 
And  at  Trespiano  ye  should  have  your  boundary; 
Than  to  have  them  within,  and  bear  the  stench 
Of  Aguglione's  hind,  and  Signa's,^  him, 
That  hath  his  eye  already  keen  for  bartering. 
Had  not  the  people,    which  of  all  the  world 
Degenerates  most,  been  stepdame  unto  Caesar, 
But,  as  a  mother  to  her  son  been  kind. 
Such  one,  as  hath  become  a  Florentine, 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XVI.  227 

And  trades  and  traffics,  had  been  turn'd  adrift 

To  Simifonte,    where  his  grandsire  plied 

The  beggar's  craft :   the  Conti  were  possess'd 

Of  Montemurlo    still :    the  Cerchi  still 

Were  in  Acone's  parish  :    nor  had  haply 

From  Valdigrieve  past  the  Buondelmonti. 

The  city's  malady  hath  ever  source 

In  the  confusion  of  its  persons,  as 

The  body's,  in  variety  of  food  : 

And  the  blind  bull    falls  with  a  steeper  plunge. 

Than  the  blind  lamb :   and  oftentimes  one  sword 

Doth  more  and  better  execution, 

Than  five.     Mark  Luni ;    Urbisaglia    mark; 

How  they  are  gone;   and  after  them  how  go 

Chiusi  and  Sinigaglia :     and  'twill  seem 

No  longer  new,  or  strange  to  thee,  to  hear 

That  families  fail,  when  cities  have  their  end. 

All  things  that  appertain  to  ye,  like  yourselves. 

Are  mortal :   but  mortality  in  some 

Ye  mark  not ;   they  endure  so  long,  and  you 

Pass  by  so  suddenly.      And  as  the  moon 

Doth,  by  the  rolling  of  her  heavenly  sphere, 

Hide  and  reveal  the  strand  unceasingly; 

So  fortune  deals  with  Florence.      Hence  admire  not 

At  what  of  them   I   tell  thee,  whose  renown 

Time  covers,  the  first  Florentines.      I  saw 

The  Ughi,    Catilini,  and  Filippi, 

The  Alberichi,  Greci,  and  Ormanni, 

Now  in  their  wane,  illustrious  citizens 

And  great  as  ancient,  of  Sannella  him, 

With  him  of  Area  saw,  and  Soldanieri, 

And  Ardinghi,  and  Bostichi.      At  the  poop 

That  now  is  laden  with  new  felony 

So  cumbrous  it  may  speedily  sink  the  bark. 

The  Ravignani  sat,  of  whom  is  sprung 

The  County  Guide,  and  whoso  hath  since 


228  THE    VISION.  96-131. 

His  title  from  the  famed  Bellincion  ta'en. 

Fair  governance  was  yet  an  art  well  prized 

By  him  of  Pressa :   Galigaio  show'd 

The  gilded  hilt  and  pommel,    in  his  house : 

The  column,  clothed  with  verrey,    still  was  seen 

Unshaken  ;   the  Sacchetti  still  were  great, 

Giouchi,  Sifanti,  Galli,  and   Barucci, 

With  them    who  blush  to  hear  the  bushel  named. 

Of  the  Calfucci  still  the  branchy  trunk 

Was  in  its  strength  ;   and,  to  the  curule  chairs, 

Sizii  and  Arrigucci     yet  were  drawn. 

How  mighty  them     I  saw,  whom,  since,  their  pride 

Hath  undone  I      And  in  all  their  goodly  deeds 

Florence  was,  by  the  bullets  of  bright  gold, 

O'erflourish'd.      Such  the  sires  of  those,    who  now, 

As  surely  as  your  church  is  vacant,  flock 

Into  her  consistory,  and  at  leisure 

There  stall  them  and  grow  fat.      The  o'erweening  brood. 

That  plays  the  dragon  after  him  that  flees. 

But  unto  such  as  turn  and  show  the  tooth, 

Ay  or  the  purse,  is  gentle  as  a  lamb, 

Was  on  its  rise,  but  yet  so  slight  esteem'd, 

That  Ubertino  of  Donati  grudged 

His  father-in-law  should  yoke  him  to  its  tribe. 

Already  Caponsacco    had  descended 

Into  the  mart  from  Fesole  :   and  Giuda 

And  Infangato    were  good  citizens. 

A  thing  incredible  I  tell,  though  true: 

The  gateway,    named  from  those  of  Pcra,  led 

Into  the  narrow  circuit  of  your  walls. 

Each  one,  who  bears  the  sightly  quarter!  ngs 

Of  the  great  Baron    (he  whose  name  and  worth 

The  festival  of  Thomas  still  revives), 

His  knighthood  and  his  privilege  retain'd ; 

Albeit  one,    who  borders  them  with  gold, 

This  day  is  mingled  with  the  common  herd- 


So,  within   the  h'glits, 
The  saintly  creatures  flying,  sang  ;  and  made 
Now  D,  now  I,  now   L,  figured   i'  the  air. 

Cinlo  X  V'lll. ,  lints  70-72. 


Ye  host  of  heaven,  whose  glorj'  I  survey! 
O  beg  ye  grace  for  those,  that  arc.  on  earth. 
All  after  ill  example  gone  astray. 


XVIll..  lints  120-iaa. 


PARADISE.— CANTO   XVI. 

In  Boreo  yet  the  Gualterotti  dwelt, 

And   Importuni  :    well   for  its  repose, 

Had  it  still  lack'd  of  newer  neighbourhood. 

The  house,      from  whence  your  tears  have  had  their  spring, 

Through  the  just  anger,  that  hath  murder'd  ye, 

And  put  a  period  to  your  gladsome  days, 

Was  honour'd;    it,  and  those  consorted  with  it. 

O  Buondeimonti  I   what  ill  counselling 

Prevail'd  on  thee  to  break  the  plighted  bond? 

Many,  who  now  are  weeping,  would  rejoice. 

Had  God  to  Ema    given  thee,  the  first  time 

Thou  near  our  city  earnest.      But  so  was  doom'd  : 

Florence  I    on  that  maim'd  stone    which  guards  the  bridge, 

The  victim,  when  thy  peace  departed,  fell. 

"  With  these  and  others  like  to  them,   I  saw 
Florence  in  such  assured  tranquillity, 
She  had  no  cause  at  which  to  grieve  :   with  these 
Saw  her  so  glorious  and  so  just,  that  ne'er 
The  lily    from  the  lance  had  hung  reverse, 
Or  through  division  been  with  vermeil  dyed." 


229 


CANTO     XVII. 


ARGUMENT. 

lictt  to  our  Port  his  exile  and  the  calamities  he  had  to  wffer ;  and,  Usily, 
the  present  poem. 

OUCH  ar.  the  youth,    who  came  to  Clymene, 
^     To  certify  himself  of  that  reproach 
Which  had  been  fasten'd  on  him  (he  whose  end 
Still  makes  the  fathers  chary  to  their  sons), 
E'en  ijuch  was  I  ;    nor  unobserved  was  such 
Of  Beatrice,  and  that  saintly  lamp, 
Who  had  erewhile  for  me  his  station  moved  ; 
When  thus  my  lady:    "Give  thy  wish  free  vent. 
That  it  may  issue,  bearing  true  report 
Of  the  mind's  impress :    not  that  aught  thy  words 
May  to  our  knowledge  add,  but  to  the  end 
That  thou  mayst  use  thyself  to  own  thy  thirst, 
And  men  may  mingle  for  thee  when  they  hear." 

"  O  plant,  from  whence  I  spring  I    revered  and  loved  I 
Who  soar'st  so  high  a  pitch,  that  thou  as  clear, 
As  earthly  thought  determines  two  obtuse 
In  one  triangle  not  contain'd,  so  clear 
Dost  see  contingencies,  ere  in  themselves 
Existent,  looking  at  the  point     whereto 
All  times  are  present  ;    I,  the  whilst  I  scaled 
With  Virgil  the  soul-purifying  mount 
And  visited  the  nether  world     of  woe. 
Touching  my  future  destiny  have  heard 
Words  grievous,  though  I  feel  me  on  all  sides 
Well  squared    to  fortune's  blows.      Therefore  my  will 
Were  satisfied  to  know  the  lot  awaits  me. 
The  arrow,    seen  beforehand,  slacks  his  flight." 


28—64.  PARADISE.— CANTO    XVII.  231 

So  said  I  to  the  brightness,  which  erewhile 

To  me  had  spoken  ;   and  my  will  declared, 

As  Beatrice  will'd,  explicitly. 

Nor  with  oraculnr  response  obscure, 

Such  as,  or  e'er  the  Lamb  of  God  was  slain, 

Beguiled  the  credulous  nations:   but,  in  terms 

Precise,  and  unambiguous  lore,  replied 

The  spirit  of  paternal  love,  enshrined. 

Yet  in  his  smile  apparent ;   and  thus  spake : 

"  Contingency,    whose  verge  extendeth  not 

Beyond  the  tablet  of  your  mortal  mold. 

Is  all  depictured  in  the  eternal  sight ; 

But  hence  deriveth  not  necessity. 

More  than  the  tall  ship,  hurried  down  the  flood, 

Is  driven  by  the  eye  that  looks  on  it. 

From  thence,    as  to  the  ear  sweet  harmony 

From  organ  comes,  so  comes  before  mine  eye 
The  time  prepared  for  thee.     Such  as  driven  out 

From  Athens,  by  his  cruel  step-dame's    wiles, 

Hippolytus  departed  ;   such  must  thou 

Depart  from  Florence.      This  they  wish,  and  this 

Contrive,  and  will  ere  long  effectuate,  there. 

Where  gainful  merchandize  is  made  of  Christ 

Throughout  the  live-long  day.      The  common  cry, 

Will,  as  'tis  ever  wont,  affix  the  blame 

Unto  the  party  injured  :    but  the  truth 

Shall,  in  the  vengeance  it  dispenseth,  find 

A  faithful  witness.      Thou  shalt  leave  each  thing' 

Beloved  most  dearly :   this  is  the  first  shaft 

Shot  from  the  bow  of  exile.      Thou  shalt  prove 

How  salt  the  savour  is  of  other's  bread ; 

How  hard  the  passage,  to  descend  and  climb 

By  other's  stairs.      But  that  shall  gall  thee  most, 

Will  be  the  worthless  and  vile  company. 

With  whom  thou  must  be  thrown  into  these  straits. 

For  all  ungrateful,  impious  all,  and  mad, 

Shall  turn  'gainst  thee  :    but  in  a  little  while. 


232 


THE   VISION. 

Theirs,    and  not  thine,  shall  be  the  crimson"d  brow, 

Their  course  shall  so  evince  their  brutishness, 

To  have  ta'en  thy  stand  apart  shall  well  become  thee. 

"  First  refuge  thou  must  find,  first  place  of  rest, 
In  the  great  Lombard's    courtesy,  who  bears, 
Upon  the  ladder  perch'd,  the  sacred  bird. 
He  shall  behold  thee  with  such  kind  regard, 
That  'twixt  ye  two,  the  contrary  to  that 
Which  'falls  'twixt  other  men,  the  granting  shall 
Forerun  the  asking.      With  him  shalt  thou  see 
That  mortal,    who  was  at  his  birth  imprest 
So  strongly  from  this  star,  that  of  his  deeds 
The  nations  shall  take  note.      His  unripe  age 
Yet  holds  him  from  observance  ;    for  these  wheels 
Only  nine  years  have  compast  him  about. 
But,  ere  the  Gascon    practise  on  great  Harry, 
Sparkles  of  virtue  shall  shoot  forth  in  him, 
In  equal  scorn    of  labours  and  of  gold. 
His  bounty  shall  be  spread  abroad  so  widely 
As  not  to  let  the  tongues,  e'en  of  his  foes, 
Be  idle  in  its  praise.      Look  thou  to  him. 
And  his  beneficence  :    for  he  shall  cause 
Reversal  of  their  lot  to  many  people  ; 
Rich  men  and  beggars  interchanging  fortunes. 
And   thou  shalt  bear  this  wriltcn  in  thy  soul. 
Of  him,  but  tell  it  not  :  "   and  things  he  told 
Incredible  to  those  who  witness  them  ; 
Then  added  :    "  So  interpret  thou,  my  son, 
What  hath  been  told  thee. — Lo  I    the.  ambushment 
That  a  few  circling  seasons  hide  for  thee. 
Yet  envy  not  thy  neighbours  :   time  extends 
Thy  span  beyond  their  treason's  chastisement." 

Soon  as  the  saintly  spirit,  by  silence,  marked 
Completion  of  that  web,  which  I  had  stretch  d 
Before  it,  warped  for  weaving ;    I  began, 
As  one,  who  in  perplexity  desires 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XVII.  233 

Counsel  of  other,  wise,  benign,  and  friendly: 

"My  father  I   well  I  mark  how  time  spurs  on 

Toward  me,  ready  to  inflict  the  blow, 

Which  falls  most  heavily  on  him  who  most 

Abandoncth  himself.      Therefore  'tis  good 

I  should  forecast,  that,  driven  from  the  place 

Most  dear  to  me,  I  may  not  lose  myself 

All  other  by  my  song.      Down  through  the  world 

Of  infinite  mourning  ;    and  along  the  mount, 

From  whose  fair  height  my  lady's  eyes  did  lift  me; 

And,  after,  through  this  heaven,  from  light  to  light; 

Have  I  learnt  that,  which  if  I  tell  again. 

It  may  with  many  wofully  disrelish  : 

And,  if  I  am  a  timid  friend  to  truth, 

I  fear  my  life  may  perish  among  those. 

To  whom  these  days  shall  be  of  ancient  date." 

The  brightness,  where  enclosed  the  treasure    smiled. 
Which  I  had  found  there,  first  shone  glisteringly. 
Like  to  a  golden  mirror  in  the  sun  ; 
Next  answered  :    "  Conscience,  dimm'd  or  by  its  own 
Or  other's  shame,  will  feel  thy  saying  sharp. 
Thou,  notwithstanding,  all  deceit  removed. 
See  the  whole  vision  be  made  manifest. 
And  let  them  wince,  who  have  their  withers  wrung. 
What  though,  when  tasted  first,  thy  voice  shall  prove 
Unwelcome :   on  digestion,  it  will  turn 
To  vital  nourishment.      The  cry  thou  raisest, 
Sh-iU,  as  the  wind  doth,  smite  the  proudest  summits-, 
Which  is  of  honour  no  light  argument. 
For  this,  there  only  have  been  shown  to  thee. 
Throughout  these  orbs,  the  mountain,  and  the  deep, 
Spirits,  whom  fame  hath  note  of.      For  the  mind 
Of  him,  who  hears,  is  loth  to  acquiesce 
And  fix  its  faith,  unless  the  instance  brought 
Be  palpable,  and  proof  apparent  urge." 


CANTO      XVIII. 

ARGUMENT, 

Dant*  tees  the  souls  of  many  renowned  warriors  and  crusaders  in  the  planet  Mars,  and  then  ascends  with  Beatrica 
to  Jupiter,  the  sixth  heaven,  in  which  he  finds  the  souls  of  those  who  had  administered  justice  rightly  in  the  world, 
so  disposed,  as  to  form  the  figure  of  an  eagle.  The  canto  concludes  with  an  invective  against  the  avarice  of  th« 
clergy,  and  especially  of  the  Pope. 

"\  T  OW    in  his  word,  sole,  ruminating,  joy'd 
•*■  ^      That  blessed  spirit :   and  I  fed  on  mine, 
Tempering  the  sweet  with  bitter.       She  meanwhile. 
Who  led  me  unto  God,  admonish'd  :    "  Muse 
On  other  thoughts:    bethink  thee,  that  near  Him 
I  dwell,  who  recompenseth  every  wrong." 

At  the  sweet  sounds  of  comfort  straight  I  turn'd; 
And,  in  the  saintly  eyes  what  love  was  seen, 
I  leave  in  silence  here,  nor  through  distrust 
Of  my  words  only,  but  that  to  such  bliss 
The  mind  remounts  not  without  aid.      Thus  much 
Yet  may  I  speak  ;    that,  as  I  gazed  on  her, 
Affection  found  no  room  for  other  wish. 
While  the  everlasting  pleasure,  that  did  full 
On  Beatrice  shine,  with  second  view 
From  her  fair  countenance  my  gladden'd  soul 
Contented;   vanquishing  me  with  a  beam 
Of  her  soft  smile,  she  spake :    "  Turn  thee,  and  list 
These  eyes  are  not  thy  only  Paradise." 

As  here,  we  sometimes  in  the  looks  may  see 
The  affection  mark'd,  when  that  its  sway  hath  taen 
The  spirit  wholly;   thus  the  hallow'd  light, 
To  whom  I  turn'd,  flashing,    bewray 'd  its  will 
To  talk  yet   further  with  me,  and  began: 
"  On  this  fifth  lodgment  of  the  tree,    whose  life 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XVIII.  235 

Is  from  its  top,  whose  fruit  is  ever  fair 

And  leaf  unwithering,  blessed  spirits  abide, 

That  were  below,  ere  they  arrived  in  heaven, 

So  mighty  in  renown,  as  every  muse 

Might  grace  her  triumph  with  them.      On  the  horns 

Look,  therefore,  of  the  cross  :    he  whom  I  name, 

Shall  there  enact,  as  doth  in  summer  cloud 

Its  nimble  fire.''      Along  the  cross  I  saw, 

At  the  repeated  name  of  Joshua, 

A  splendour  gliding ;   nor,  the  word  was  said, 

Ere  it  was  done:    then,  at  the  naming,  saw, 

Of  the  great  Maccabee,    another  move 

With  whirling  speed  ;    and  gladness  was  the  scourge 

Unto  that  top.      The  next  for  Charlemain 

And  for  the  peer  Orlando,  two  my  gaze 

Pursued,  intently,  as  the  eye  pursues 

A  falcon  flying.      Last,  along  the  cross, 

William,  and   Renard,    and  Duke  Godfrey    drew 

My  ken,  and   Robert  Guiscard.       And  the  soul 

Who  spake  with  me,  among  the  other  lights 

Did   move  away,  and  mix  ;  and  with  the  quire 

Of  heavenly  songsters  proved  his  tuneful  skill. 

To  Beatrice  on  my  right  I   bent. 
Looking  'pT  intimation,  or  by  word 
Or  ar',  what  next  behoved  ;   and  did  descry 
Such  mere  effulgence  in  her  eyes,  such  joy, 
It  passed  all  former  wont.      And,  as  by  sense 
Of  new  delight,  the  man,  who  perseveres 
In  good  deeds,  doth  perceive,  from  day  to  day. 
His  virtue  growing  ;    I  e'en  thus  perceived. 
Of  my  ascent,  together  with  the  heaven, 
The  circuit  widen'd  ;    noting  the  increase 
Of  beauty  in  that  wonder.      Like  the  change 
In  a  brief  moment  on  some  maiden's  cheek. 
Which,  from  its  fairness,  doth  discharge  the  weight 
Of  pudency,  that  stain'd  it;    such  in  her, 


236  THE   VISION.  62-97 

And  to  mine  eyes  so  sudden  was  the  change, 
Through    silvery  whiteness  of  that  temperate  sUr, 
Whose  sixth  orb  now  enfolded  us       1  saw, 
Within  that  Jovial  cresset,  Ihe  clear  sparks 
Of  love,  that  reign'd  there,  fashion  to  my  view 
Our  language.      And  as  birds,  from  river  banks 
Arisen,  now  in  round,  now  lengthen'd  troop, 
Array  them  in  their  flight,  greeting,  as  seems, 
Their  new-found  pastures  ;   so,  within  the  lights, 
The  saintly  creatures  flying,  sang ;   and  made 
Now  D,  now  I,  now  L,  figured  i'  the  air. 
First  singing  to  their  notes  they  moved  ;   then,  one 
Becoming  of  these  signs,  a  little  while 
Did  rest  them,  and  were  mute.      O  nymph  divine, 
Of  Pegasean  race  I   who  souls,  which  thou 
Inspirest,  makest  glorious  and  long-lived,  as  they 
Cities  and  realms  by  thee  ;    thou  with  thyself 
Inform  me ;    that  I  may  set  forth  the  shapes, 
As  fancy  doth  present  them  :   be  thy  power 
Displ^y'd  in  this  brief  song.     The  characters, 
Vocal  and  consonant,  were  five-fold  seven. 
In  order,  each,  as  they  appear'd,  I  mark'd 
Diligite  Justitiam,  the  first, 

Both  verb  and  noun  all  blazon'd  ;   and  the  extreme. 
Qui  judicatis  terram.      In  the  M 
Of  the  fifth  word  they  held  their  station  ; 
Making  the  star  seem  silver  streak'd  with  gold. 
And  on  the  summit  of  the  M,  I  saw 
Descending  other  lights,  that  rested  there, 
Singing,  methinks,  their  bliss  and  primal  good. 
Then,  as  at  shaking  of  a  lighted  brand, 
Sparkles  innumerable  on  all  sides 
Rise  scatter'd,  source  of  augury  to  the  unwise; 
Thus  more  than  thousand  twinkling  lustres  hence 
Seern'd  reascending;   and  a  higher  pitch 
Some  mounting,  and  some  less,  e'en  as  the  sun, 


s 


Before  my  sight  appear'd,  with  open  wings, 
The  beauteous  image  ;  in   fruition  sweet, 
Gladdening  the  thronged  spirits. 

Canto  XIX.,  lines  1-3. 


I^c 


For  that  all  those  livmy  iit;lus, 
Waxin-;  in  splendour,  burst  forth  into  songs, 
Such  as  from  memory  glide  and  fall  away. 

Canto  .V.V.     !inf>    lO-ia 


9^-^32.  PARADISE.— CANTO    XVIII. 

Which  kindleth  them,  decreed.     And  when  eac'a  on# 

Flad  settled  in  his  place;   the  head  and  neck 

Then  saw  I  of  an  eagle,  livelily 

Graved  in  that  streaky  fire.     Who  painteth  there, 

Hath  none  to  guide  Him:   of  Himself  he  guides: 

And  every  line  and  texture  of  the  nest 

Doth  own  from  Him  the  virtue  fashions  it 

The  other  bright  beatitude,    that  seem'd 

Erewhile,  with  lilied  crowning,  well  content 

To  over-canopy  the  M,  moved  forth, 

Following  gently  the  impress  of  the  bird. 

Sweet  star!   what  glorious  and  thick-studded  gems 
Declared  to  me  our  justice  on  the  earth 
To  be  the  effluence  of  that  heaven,  which  thou, 
Thyself  a  costly  jewel,  dost  inlay. 
Therefore  I  pray  the  Sovran  Mind,  from  whom 
Thy  motion  and  thy  virtue  are  begun, 
That  He  would  look  from  whence  the  fog  doth  rise, 
To  vitiate  thy  beam ;   so  that  once  more 
He  may  put  forth  his  hand    gainst  such,  as  drive 
Their  traffic  in  that  sanctuary,  whose  walls 
With  miracles  and  martyrdoms  were  built. 

Ye  host  of  heaven,  whose  glory  I  survey! 

0  beg  ye  grace  for  those,  that  are,  on  earth, 
All  after  ill  example  gone  astray. 

War  once  had  for  his  instrument  the  sword : 

But  now  'tis  made,  taking  the  bread  away, 

Which  the  good   Father  locks  from  none.— And  thou. 

That  writest  but  to  cancel,    think,  that  they, 

Who  for  the  vineyard,  which  thou  wastest,  died, 

Peter  and  Paul,  live  yet,  and  mark  thy  doingi,. 

Thou  hast  good  cause  to  cry,  "  My  heart  so  cleaves 

To  him,    that  lived   in  solitude  remote. 

And  for  a  dance    was  dragg'd  to  martyrdom, 

1  wist  not  of  the  fisherman  nor  Paul." 


237 


C,;\NTO      XIX. 


ARGU  MENT. 

The  eajile  speaks  u  with  one  voice  proceeding  from  a  muUitude  of  spirits  that  compose  it,  and  declares  the  cauM 
for  which  it  is  exalted  to  that  state  of  glory.  It  then  solves  a  doubt  which  our  Poet  hacJ  entertained  respect- 
ing the  possibility  of  salvation  without  belief  in  Christ  ;  exposes  the  inefticacy  of  a  mere  profession  of  luch 
belief ;  and  propr.rsies  the  evil  appearance  that  many  Christian  potentates  will  make  at  the  day  of  judgmeat. 

"DEFORE  my  sight  appcar'd,  with  open  wings, 

-'-^     The  beauteous  image ;   in  fruition  sweet, 

Gladdening  the  thronged  spirits.     Each  did  seem 

A  little  ruby,  whereon  so  intense 

The  sun-beam  glow'd,  that  to  mine  eyes  it  came 

In  clear  refraction.     And  that,  which  next 

Befalls  me  to  pourtray,  voice  hath  not  utterd, 

Nor  hath  ink  written,    nor  in  fantasy 

Was  e'er  conceived.     For  I  beheld  and  heard 

The  beak  discourse ;   and,  what  intention  fcjim'd 

Of  many,  singly  as  of  one  express, 

Beginning :    "  For  that  I  was  just  and  piteous, 

I  am  exalted  to  this  height  of  glory, 

The  which  no  wish  exceeds :   and  there  on  earth 

Have  I  my  memory  left,  e'en  by  the  bad 

Commended,  while  they  leave  its  course  untrod." 

Thus  is  one  heat  from  many  embers  felt; 
As  in  that  image  many  were  the  loves, 
And  one  the  voice,  that  issued  from  them  all : 
Whence  I  address'd  them :    "  O  perennial  flowers 
Of  gladness  everlasting  I    that  exhale 
In  single  breath  your  odours  manifold; 
Breathe  now:   and  let  the  hunger  be  appeased, 
That  with  great  craving  long  hath  held  my  soul. 
Finding  no  food  on  earth.     This  well  I  know; 
That  if  there  be  in  heaven  a  realm,  that  shows 


27-62.  PARADISR.-CANTO    XIX.  239 

In  faithful  mirror  the  celestial  Justice, 

Yours  without  veil  reflects  it.     Ye  discern 

The  heed,  wherewith  I  do  prepare  myself    . 

To  hearken  ;    ye,   the  doubt,  that  urges  me 

With  such  inveterate  craving."     Straight  I  saw, 

Like  to  a  falcon     issuing  from  the  hood, 

That  rears  his  hckd,  and  daps  h»iv:  with  his  wings, 

His  beauty  and  his  eagerness  bewraying; 

So  saw  I  move  that  stately  sign,  with  praise 

Of  grace  divine  inwoven,  and  high  song 

<;f  inexpressive  joy.     "He,"  it  began, 

"Who  turn'd  his  compass    on  the  worlds  extreme. 

And  in  that  space  so  variously  hath  wrought, 

Both  openly  and  in  secret ;    in  such  wise 

Could  not,  through  all  the  universe,  display 

Impression  of  his  glory,  that  the  Word 

Of  his  omniscience  should  not  still  remain 

In  infinite  excess.       In  proof  whereof. 

He  first  through  pride  supplanted,  who  was  sum 

Of  each  created  being,  waited  not 

For  light  celestial ;   and  abortive  fell. 

Whence  needs  each  lesser  nature  is  but  scant 

Receptacle  unto  that  Good,  which  knows 

No  limit,  measured  by  itself  alone. 

Therefore  your  sight,  of  the  omnipresent  Mind 

A  single  beam,  its  origin  must  own 

Surpassing  far  its  utmost  potency. 

The  ken,  your  world  is  gifted  with,  descends 

In  the  everlasting  Justice  as  low  down. 

As  eye  doth  in  the  sea;   which,  though  it  mark 

The  bottom  from  the  shore,  in  the  wide  main 

Discerns  it  not;   and  ne'ertheless  it  is; 

But  hidden  through  its  deepness.     Light  is  none. 

Save  that  which  cometh  from  the  pure  serene 

Of  ne'er  disturbed  ether:    for  the  rest, 

Tis  darkness  all ;    or  shadow  of  the  flesh, 


240  THE   VISION.  63-98. 

Or  else  its  poison.     Hero  confess  revcal'd 

That  covert,  which  hath   hidden  from  thy  search 

The  living  Justice,  of  the  which  thou  madest 

Such  frequent  question;    for  thou  saidst — 'A  man 

Is  born  on   Indus'  banks,  and   none  is  there 

Who  speaks  of  Christ,  nor  who  doth  read  nor  write; 

And  all  his  inclinations  and   his  acts, 

As  far  as  human  reason  sees,  are  good; 

And  he  offendeth  not  in  word  or  deed : 

But  unbaptized  he  dies,  and  void  of  faith. 

Where  is  the  justice  that  condemns  him?  where 

His  blame,  if  he  Ixlieveth   not?" — What  then, 

And  who  art  thou,  that  on  the  stool  wouldst  sit 

To  judge  at  distance  of  a  thousand   miles 

With  the  short-sighted  vision  of  a  span? 

To  him,    who  subtilizes  thus  with   me, 

There  would  assuredly  be  room  for  doubt 

Even  to  wonder,  did   not  the  safe  word 

Of  Scripture  hold  supreme  authority. 

"O  animals  of  clay!   O  spirits  gross  I 
The  primal  will,    that  in  itself  is  good, 
Hath  from  itself,  the  chief  Good,  ne'er  been  moved. 
Justice  consists  in  consonance  with  it, 
Derivable  by  no  created  good, 
Whose  very  cause  depends  upon  its  beam." 

As  on  her  nest  the  stork,  that  turns  about 
Unto  her  young,  whom  lately  she  hath  fed, 
\\'hiles  they  with  upward  eyes  do  look  on  her; 
So  lifted  I  my  gaze ;   and,  bending  so, 
The  ever-blessed  image  waved  its  wings. 
Labouring  with  such  deep  counsel.     Wheeling  round 
It  warbled,  and  did  say :    "As  are  my  notes 
To  thee,  who  understand'st  them  not ;   such  is 
The  eternal  judgment  unto  mortal  ken." 

Then  still  abiding  in  that  ensign  ranged, 
Wherewith  the  Romans  overawed  the  woild. 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XIX.  24; 

Those  burning  splendours  of  the  Holy  Spirit 

Took  up  the  strain  ;    and  thus  it  spake  again : 

"  None  ever  hath  ascended  to  this  realm, 

Who  hath  not  a  believer  been  in  Christ, 

Either  before  or  alter  the  blest  limbs 

Were  nail'd  upon  the  wood.     But  lo!  of  those 

Who  call  'Christ,  Christ,'     there  shall  be  many  found, 

In  judgment,  further  oT  from  him  by  far, 

Thati  such  to  whom  his  name  was  never  known. 

Christians  like  these  the  /Ethiop    shall  condemn  : 

When  that  the  two  assemblages  shall  part; 

One  rich  eternally,  the  other  poor. 

"What  may  the  Persians  say  unto  your  kings. 
When  they  shall  see  that  volume,    in  the  which 
All  their  dispraise  is  written,  spread  to  view? 
There  amidst  Albert's     works  shall  that  be  read, 
Which  will  give  speedy  motion  to  the  pen. 
When  Prague    shall  mourn  her  desolated   realm. 
There  shall  be  read  the  woe,  that  he    doth  work 
With  his  adulterate  money  on  the  Seine, 
Who  by  the  tusk  will  perish  :    there  be  read 
The  thirsting  pride,  that  maketh  fool  alike 
The  English  and  Scot,    impatient  of  their  bound. 
There  shall  be  seen  the  Spaniard's  luxury  ; 
The  delicate  living  there  of  the  Bohemian, 
Who  still  to  worth  has  been  a  willing  stranger. 
The  halter  of  Jerusalem      shall  see 
A  unit  for  his  virtue ;   for  his  vices, 
No  less  a  mark  than  million.      He,    who  guards 
The  isle  of  fire  by  old  Anchises  honour'd, 
Shall  find  his  avarice  there  and  cowardice ; 
And  better  to  denote  his  littleness. 
The  writing  must  be  letters  maim'd,  that  speak 
Much  in  a  narrow  space.      All  there  shall  know 
His  uncle    and  his  brother's    filthy  doings, 
Who  so  renown'd  a  nation  and  two  crowns 
Have  bastardized.       And  they,  of  Portugal 


242  THE   VISION.  136—145. 

And   Norway,    there  shall  be  exposed,  with  him 

Of  Ratza,    who  hath  counterfeited  ill 

The  coin  of  Venice.      O  blest  Hungary  I 

If  thou  no  longer  patiently  abidest 

Thy  ill-entreating  :   and,  O  blest  Navarre  I 

If  with  thy  mountainous  girdle      thou  wouldst  arm  thee 

In  earnest  of  that  day,  e'en  now  are  heard 

Wailings  and  groans  in   Famagosta's  streets 

And  Nicosia's,     grudging  at  their  beast, 

Who  keepeth  even  footing  with  the  rest" 


CANTO      XX. 


ARGUMENT. 


fhe  eagle  celebrates  the  praise  of  certain  kings,  whose  glorified  spirits  form  tlie  eye  of  the  bird.  In  the  pupil  ii 
David,  and  in  tlie  circle  round  it,  Trajan,  Hezekiah,  Constantine,  William  H.  of  Sicilv.  and  Ripheus.  It  explains 
to  our  Poet  how  the  souls  of  those  whom  he  supposed  to  have  had  no  means  of  believing  in  Christ,  came  to 
be  in  heaven  ;  and  concludes  with  an  admonition  against  presuming  to  fathom  the  counsels  of  God. 

A  1  THEN,  disappearing  from  our  hemisphere, 

'  *       The  world's  enlightener  vanishes,  and  day 
On  all  sides  wasteth  ;   suddenly  the  sky, 
Erewhile  irradiate  only  with  his  beam, 
Is  yet  again  unfolded,  putting  forth 
Innumerable  lights  wherein  one  shines. 
Of  such  vicissitude  in  heaven  I  thought; 
As  the  great  sign,    that  marshalleth  the  world 
And  the  world's  leaders,  in  the  blessed  beak 
Was  silent  :    for  that  all  those  living  lights, 
Waxing  in  splendour,  burst  forth  into  songs, 
Such  as  from  memory  glide  and  fall  away. 

Sweet  Love,  that  dost  apparel  thee  in  smiles! 
How  lustrous  was  thy  semblance  in  those  sparkles, 
Which  merely  are  from  holy  thoughts  inspired. 

After    the  precious  and  bright  beaming  stones, 
That  did  ingem  the  sixth  light,  ceased  the  chiming 
Of  their  angelic  bells  ;    methought  I  heard 
The  murmuring  of  a  river,  that  doth  fall 
From  rock  to  rock  transpicuous,  making  known 
The  richness  of  his  spring-head  :   and  as  sound 
Of  cittern,  at  the  fret-board,  or  of  pipe, 
Is,  at  the  wind-hole,  modulate  and  tuned; 
Thus  up  the  neck,  as  it  were  nollow,  rose 
That  murmuring  of  the  eagle;   and  forthwith 
Voice  there  assumed ;   and  thence  along  the  beak 
Issued  in  form  of  words,  such  as  mv  heart 


244  THE   \lSION.  28—65. 

Did  look  for,  on  whose  tables  I  inscribed  them. 

"  The  part    in  me,  that  sees  and  bears  the  sin 
In  mortal  eagles,"  it  began,  "  must  now 
Be  noted  steadfastly :    for,  of  the  fires, 
That  ngure  me,  those,  glittering  in  mine  eye. 
Are  chief  of  all  the  greatest.      This,  that  shines 
Midmost  for  pupil,  was  the  same  who    sang 
The  Holy  Spirit's  song,  and  bare  about 
The  ark  from  town  to  town  :    now  doth  he  know 
The  merit  of  his  soul-inipassion'd  strains 
By  their  well-fitted  guerdon.      Of  the  five. 
That  make  the  circle  of  the  vision,  he, 
Who  to  the  beak  is  nearest,  comforted 
The  widow  for  her  son  :    now  doth  he  know, 
How  dear  it  costcth  not  to  follow  Christ; 
Both  from  experience  of  this  pleasant  life. 
And  of  its  opposite.      He  next,    who  follows 
In  the  circumference,  for  the  over-arch. 
By  true  repenting  slack'd  the  pace  of  death  : 
Now  knoweth  he,  that  the  decrees  of  heaven 
Alter  not,  when,  through  pious  prayer  below, 
To-day  is  made  to-morrow's  destiny. 
The  other  following,    with  the  laws  and  me, 
To  yield  the  shepherd  room,  pass'd  o'er    to  Greece; 
From  good  intent,  producing  evil  fruit : 
Now  knoweth  he,  how  all  the  ill,  derived 
From  his  well  doing,  doth  not  harm  him  aught; 
Though  it  have  brought  destruction  on  the  world. 
That,  which  thou  seest  in  the  under  bow. 
Was  William,    whom  that  land  bewails,  which  weeps 
For  Charles  and   Frederick  living  :    now  he  kliows, 
How  well  is  loved  in  heaven  the  righteous  king ; 
Which  he  betokens  by  his  radiant  seeming. 
Who,  in  the  .erring  world  beneath,  would  deem 
That  Trojan   Ripheus,    in  this  round,  was  set, 
Fifth  of  the  saintly  splendours  ?   now  he  knows 
Enough  of  that,  which  the  world  cannot  see; 
The  grace  divine  :    albeit  e'en  his  sight 


66— ,o3.  PARADISE.- CANTO    XX  245 

Reach  not  its  utmost  depth."      Like  to  the  lark. 
That  warbling  in  the  air  expatiates  long, 
Then,  trilling  out  his  last  sweet  melody, 
Drops,  satiate  with  the  sweetness  ;    such  appear'i 
That  image,  stampt  by  the  everlasting  pleasure, 
Which  fashions,  as  they  are,  all  things  that  be. 

I,  though  my  doubting  were  as  manifest, 
As  is  through  glass     the  hue  that  mantles  it, 
In  silence  waited   not  ;    for  to  my  lips 
"What  things  are  these?"    involuntary  rush'd, 
And  forced  a  passage  out  :    whereat  I   mark'd 
A  sudden  lightening  and  new  revelry. 
The  eye  was  kindled  ;    and  the  blessed  sign, 
No  more  to  keep  me  wondering  and  suspense, 
Replied  :    "  I  see  that  thou  believest  these  things, 
Because  I  tell  them,  but  discern'st  not  how  ; 
So  that  thy  knowledge  waits  not  on  thy  faith : 
As  one,  who  knows  the  name  of  thing  by  rote, 
But  is  a  stranger  to  its  properties. 
Till  other's  tongue  reveal  them.      Fervent  love, 
And  lively  hope,  with  violence  assail 
The  kingdom  of  the  heavens,  and  overcome 
The  will  of  the  Most  High ;    not  in  such  sort 
As  man  prevails  o'er  man  ;    but  conquers  it, 
Because  'tis  willing  to  be  conquer'd  ;    still, 
Though  conquer'd,  by  its  mercy,  conquering. 

"  Those,  in  the  eye  who  live  the  first  and  fifth. 
Cause  thee  to  marvel,  in  that  thou  behold'st 
The  region  of  the  angels  deck'd  with  them. 
They  quitted  not  their  bodies,  as  thou  deem'st. 
Gentiles,  but  Christians  ;    in  firm  rooted  faith. 
This,    of  the  feet  in  future  to  be  pierced, 
That,    of  feet  nail'd  already  to  the  cross. 
One  from  the  barrier  of  the  dark  abyss, 
Where  never  any  with  good  will  returns, 
Came  back  unto  his  bones.      Of  lively  hope 
Such  wa.«;  the  meed  :   of  lively  hope,  that  wing'd 
The  pra)i'rs     sent   up  to  God   for  his  release, 


246  THE   VISION. 

And  put  power  into  them  to  bend  His  will. 

The  glorious  Spirit,  of  whom  I  speak  to  thee, 

A  little  while  returning  to  the  flesh, 

Believed  in  him,  who  had  the  means  to  help ; 

And,  in  believing,  nourish'd  such  a  flame 

Of  holy  love,  that  at  the  second  death 

He  was  made  sharer  in  our  gamesome  mirth. 

The  other,  through  the  riches  of  that  grace, 

Which  from  so  deep  a  fountaip  doth  distil, 

As  never  eye  created  saw  its  rising. 

Placed  all  his  love  below  on  just  and  right : 

Wherefore,  of  grace,  God  oped  in  him  the  eye 

To  the  redemption  of  mankind  to  come; 

Wherein  believing,  he  endured  no  more 

The  filth  of  Paganism,  and  for  their  ways 

Rebuked  the  stubborn  nations.     The  three  nymphs. 

Whom  at  the  right  wheel  thou  beheld'st  advancmg, 

Were  sponsors  for  him,  more  than  thousand  years 

Before  baptizing.     O  how  far  removed, 

Predestination  I  is  thy  root  from  such 

As  see  not  the  First  Cause  entire :   and  ye, 

O  mortal  men  I  be  wary  how  ye  judge : 

For  we,  who  see  our  Maker,  know  not  yet 

The  number  of  the  chosen ;   and  esteem 

Such  scantiness  of  knowledge  our  delight: 

For  all  our  good  is,  in  that  primal  good, 

Concentrate ;   and  God's  will  and  ours  are  one." 

So,  by  that  form  divine,  was  given  to  nic 
S^"eet  medicine  to  clear  and  strengthen  sight. 
And,  as  one  handling  skilfully  the  harp, 
Attendant  on  some  skilful  songster's  voice 
Bids  the  chord  vibrate;  and  therein  the  song- 
Acquires  more  pleasure:  so  the  whilst  it  spake, 
It  doth  remember  me,  that  I  beheld 
The  pair  of  blessed  luminaries  move, 
Like  the  accordant  twinkling  of  two  eyes, 
Theii   beamy  circlets,  dancing  to  the  sounds. 


CANTO     XXI. 


ARGUMENT. 


Daate  ascends  wkh  Beatrin'  to  the  seventh  heaven,  which  is  the  planet  Satum  ;  wherein  is  placed  a  ladder  so 
lofty,  that  the  tcy  of  it  a  out  of  his  sight.  Here  are  the  souls  of  those  who  had  passed  their  life  in  holy  re- 
tirement and  contemplation.  Piero  Damiano  comes  near  them,  and  answers  questions  put  to  him  by  Dante ; 
then  declares  who  he  was  on  earth,  and  ends  by  declaiming  against  the  luxury  of  pastors  and  prelates  in  those 
times. 

A  GAIN  mine  eyes  were  fix'd  on  Beatrice; 
'^^  And,  with  mine  eyes,  my  soul  that  in  her  looks 
Found  all  contentment.     Yet  no  smile  she  wore : 
And,  "Did  I  smile,"  quoth  she,  "thou  wouldst  be  straight 
Like  Semele  when  into  ashes  turn'd : 
For,  mounting  these  eternal  palace-stairs, 
My  beauty,  which  the  loftier  it  climbs. 
As  thou  hast  noted,  still  doth  kindle  more, 
So  shines,  that,  were  no  tempering  interposed, 
Thy  mortal  puissance  would  from  its  rays 
Shrink,  as  the  leaf  doth  from  the  thunderbolt 
Into  the  seventh  splendour    are  we  wafted. 
That,  underneath  the  burning  lion's  breast. 
Beams,  in  this  hour,  commingled  with  his  might. 
Thy  mind  be  with  thine  eyes ;   and,  in  them,  mirror'd 
The  shape,  which  in  this  mirror  shall  be  shown." 

Whoso  can  deem,  how  fondly  I  had  fed 
My  sight  upon  her  blissful  countenance, 
May  know,  when  to  new  thoughts  I  changed,  what  joy 
To  do  the  bidding  of  my  heavenly  guide ; 
In  equal  balance,    poising  either  weight. 

Within  the  crystal,  which  records  the  name 
(As  its  remoter  circle  girds  the  world) 
Of  that  loved  monarch,    in  whose  happy  reign 


248  TIIF.    VISION. 

No  ill  had  power  to  harm,   I  saw  rear'd  up, 

In  colour  like  to  sun-illumined  gold, 

A  ladder,  which  my  ken  pursued  in  vain, 

So  lofty  was  the  summit;    down  whose  steps 

I  saw  the  splendours  in  such  multirude 

Descending,  every  light  in  heaven,  methought, 

Was  shed  thence.     As  the  rooks,  at  dawn  of  day, 

Bestirring  them  to  dry  their  feathers  chill, 

Some  speed  their  way  a-field  ;    and  homeward  some. 

Returning,  cross  their  flight;    while  some  abide. 

And  wheel  around  their  airy  lodge:    so  seem'd 

That  glitterance,    wafted  on  alternate  wing, 

As  upon  certain  stair  it  came,  and  clash'd 

Its  shining.     And  one,  lingering  near  us,  wax'd 

So  bright,  that  in  my  thought  I  said:    "The  love 

Which  this  betokens  me,  admits  no  doubt," 

Unwillingly  from  question  I  refrain ; 
To  her,  by  whom  my  silence  and  my  speech 
Are  order'd,  looking  for  a  sign  :    whence  she, 
Who  in  the  sight  of  Him,  that  seeth  all, 
Saw  wherefore  I  was  silent,  prompted  me 
To  indulge  the  fervent  wish ;   and  I  began : 
"I  am  not  worthy,  of  my  own  desert. 
That  thou  shouldst  answer  me  :    but  for  her  sake, 
Who  hath  vouchsafed  my  asking,  spirit  blest. 
That  in  thy  joy  art  shrouded  I    say  the  cause. 
Which  bringeth  thee  so  near:   and  wherefore,  say, 
Doth  the  sweet  symphony  of  Paradise 
Keep  silence  here,  pervading  with  such  sounds 
Of  rapt  devotion  every  lower  sphere?" 
"Mortal  art  thou  in  hearing,  as  in  sight;" 
Was  the  reply:    "and  what  forbade  the  smile 
Of  Beatrice  interrupts  our  song. 
Only  to  yield  thee  gladness  of  my  voice, 
And  of  the  light  that  vests  me,  I  thus  far 
Descend  these  hallow'd  steps:    not  that  more  love 


61—97.  PARADISE.— CANTO   XXI.  249 

Invites  me ;   for,  lo  1   there  aloft,    as  much 
Or  more  of  love  is  witncss'd  in  those  flames : 
But  such  my  lot  by  charity  assign'd, 
That  makes  us  ready  servants,  as  thou  seest, 
To  execute  the  counsel  of  the  Highest." 

•'That  in  this  court,"  said  I,  "O  sacred  :ampj 
Love  no  compulsion  needs,  but  follows  free 
The  eternal  Providence,  I  well  discern : 
This  harder  find  to  deem :   why,  of  thy  peers, 
Thou  only,  to  this  office  wert  forcdoom'd." 

I  had  not  ended,  when,  like  rapid  mill, 
Upon  its  centre  whirl'd  the  light ;   and  then 
The  love  that  did  inhabit  there,  replied : 
"Splendour  eternal,  piercing  through  these  folds, 
Its  virtue  to  my  vision  knits ;   and  thus 
Supported,  lifts  me  so  above  myself. 
That  on  the  sovran  essence,  which  it  wells  from, 
I  have  the  power  to  gaze :   and  hence  the  joy, 
Wherewith  I  sparkle,  equalling  with  my  blaze 
The  keenness  of  my  sight.     But  not  the  soul. 
That  is  in  heaven  most  lustrous,  nor  the  seraph. 
That  hath  his  eyes  most  fix'd  on  God,  shall  solve 
What  thou  hast  ask'd  :    for  in  the  abyss  it  lies 
Of  th'  everlasting,  statute  sunk  so  low, 
That  no  created  ken  .may  fathom  it. 
And,  to  the  mortal  world  when  thou  return'st, . 
Be  this  reported:   that  none  i^enceforth  dare 
Direct  his  footsteps  to  so  dread  a  bourn. 
The  mind,  that  here  is  radiant,  on  the  earth 
Is  wrapt  in  mist.     Look  then  if  she  may  do 
Below,  what  passeth  her  ability 

When  she  is  ta'en  to  heaven."     By  words  like  these 
Admonish'd,  I  the  question  urged  no  more; 
And  of  the  spirit  humbly  sued  alone 
To  instruct  me  of  its  state.     "  'Twixt  either  shore 
Of  Italy,  nor  distant  from  thy  land, 
A  stony  ridge    ariseth ;    in  such  sort, 


250  THE   VISION.  98-133. 

The  thunder  doth  not  lift  his  voice  so  high. 
They  call  it  Catria:     at  whose  foot,  a  cell 
Is  sacred  to  the  lonely  Eremite ; 
For  worship  set  apart  and  holy  rites." 
A  third  time  thus  it  spake;   then  added:   "There 
So  firmly  to  God's  service  I  adhered, 
That  with  no  costlier  viands  than  the  juice 
Of  olives,  easily  I  pass'd  the  heats 
Of  summer  and  the  winter  frosts ;   content 
In  heaven-ward  musings.     Rich  were  the  returns 
And  fertile,  which  that  cloister  once  was  used 
To  render  to  these  heavens :   now  'tis  fallen 
Into  a  waste  so  empty,  that  ere  long 
Detection  must  lay  bare  its  vanity. 
Pietro  Damiano    there  was  I  y-clept : 
Pietro  the  sinner,  when  before  I  dwelt, 
Beside  the  Adriatic,    in  the  house 
Of  our  blest  Lady.     Near  upon  my  close 
Of  mortal  life,  through  much  importuning 
I  was  constrained  to  wear  the  hat,    that  still 
From  bad  to  worse  is  shifted. — Cephas    came; 
He  came,  who  was  the  Holy  Spirit's  vessel ; 
Barefoot  and  lean;   eating  their  bread,  as  chanced, 
At  the  first  table.     Modern  Shepherds  need 
Those  who  on  either  hand  may  prop  and  lead  them. 
So  burly  are  they  grown ;   and  from  behind. 
Others  to  hoist  them.     Down  the  palfrey's  sides 
Spread  their  broad  mantles,  so  as  both  the  beasts 
Are  cover'd  with  one  skin.     O  patience  I    thou 
That  look'st  on  this,  and  dost  endure  so  long." 
I  at  those  accents  saw  the  splendours  down 
From  step  to  step  alight,  and  wheel,  and  wax, 
Each  circuiting,  more  beautiful.     Round  this 
They  came,  and  stay'd  them ;  utter'd  then  a  shout 
So  loud,  it  hath  no  likeness  here :    nor  I 
Wist  what  it  spake,  so  deafening  was  the  thunder. 


CaWTO     XXII, 


ARGUMENT. 

H«  beholds  many  other  spirits  of  the  devout  and  contemplative ;  and  amongst  these  U  addressed  by  St  Benedict, 
who,  after  disclosing  his  own  name  and  the  names  of  certain  of  his  companions  in  bliss,  replies  to  the  request 
made  by  our  Poet  that  he  might  look  on  the  form  of  the  saint  without  that  covering  of  splendour  which  then 
invested  it  ;  and  then  proceeds,  lastly,  to  inveigh  against  the  corruption  of  the  monks.  Next  Uante  mounu 
with  his  heavenly  conductress  to  the  eighth  heaven,  or  that  of  the  fixed  stars,  which  he  enters  at  the  constella- 
tion of  the  Twins ;  and  thence  looking  back,  reviews  all  the  space  he  has  passed  between  his  present  sutioa 
•nd  the  earth. 

ASTOUNDED,  to  the  guardian  of  my  steps 
-^^   I  turn'd  me,  like  the  child,  who  always  runs 
Thither  for  succour,  where  he  trusteth  most: 
And  she  was  like  the  mother,    who  her  son 
Beholding  pale  and  breathless,  with  her  voice 
Soothes  him,  and  he  is  cheer'd  ;   for  thus  she  spake. 
Soothing  me:    "Know'st  not  thou,  thou  art  in  heaven? 
And  know'st  not  thou,  whatever  is  in  heaven, 
Is  holy ;   and  that  nothing  there  is  done. 
But  is  done  zealously  and  well  ?     Deem  now, 
What  change  in  thee  the  song,  and  what  my  smile 
Had  wrought,  since  thus  the  shout  had  power  to  move  thee; 
In  which,  couldst  thou  have  understood  their  prayers, 
The  vengeance    were  already  known  to  thee. 
Which  thou  must  witness  ere  thy  mortal  hour. 
The  sword  of  heaven  is  not  in  haste  to  smite, 
Nor  yet  doth  linger;   save  unto  his  seeming. 
Who,  in  desire  or  fear,  doth  look  for  it. 
But  elsewhere  now  I  bid  thee  turn  thy  view; 
So  shalt  thou  many  a  famous  spirit  behold." 
Mine  eyes  directing,' as  she  will'd,  I  saw 
A  hundred  little  spheres,  that  fairer  grew 
By  interchange  of  splendour.     I  remain'd. 


252  THE    VISION.  »4— 59- 

As  one,  who  fearful  of  o'er-much  presuming, 
Abates  in  him  the  keenness  of  desire, 
Nor  dares  to  question ;   when,  amid  those  pearls, 
One  largest  and  most  lustrous  onward  drew, 
That  it  might  yield  contentment  to  my  wish  ; 
And,  from  within  it,  these  the  sounds  I  heard. 

"If  thou,  like  me,  beheld'st  the  charity 
That  burns  amongst  us;   what  thy  mind  conceiveifc 
Were  utter'd.     But  that,  ere  the  lofty  bound 
Thou  reach,  expectance  may  not  weary  thee; 
I  will  make  answer  even  to  the  thought, 
Which  thou  hast  such  respect  of.     In  old  days. 
That  mountain,  at  whose  side  Cassino    rests, 
Was,  on  its  height,  frequented  by  a  race 
Deceived  and  ill-disposed :   and  I  it  was, 
Who  thither  carried  first  the  name  of  Him, 
Who  brought  the  soul-subliming  truth  to  man. 
And  such  a  speeding  grace  shone  over  me, 
That  from  their  impious  worship  I  reclaim'd 
The  dwellers  round  about,  who  with  the  world 
Were  in  delusion  lost.     These  other  flames. 
The  spirits  of  men  contemplative,  were  all 
Eniiven'd  by  that  warmth,  whose  kindly  force 
Gives  birth  to  flowers  and  fruits  of  holiness. 
Here  is  Macarius ;     Romoaldo    here; 
And  here  my  brethren,  who  their  steps  refrain'd 
Within  the  cloisters,  and  held  firm  their  heart." 

I  answering  thus :    "Thy  gentle  words  and  kind. 
And  this  the  cheerful  semblance  I  behold, 
Not  unobservant,  beaming  in  ye  all. 
Have  raised  assurance  in  me;   wakening  it 
FuU-blossom'd  in  my  bosom,  as  a  rose 
Before  the  sun,  when  the  consummate  flower 
Has  spread  to  utmost  amplitude.     Of  thee 
Therefore  intreat  I,  father,  to  declare 
If  I  may  gain  such  favour,  as  to  gaze 


60-95.  PARADlSi:.— CANTO    XXII.  253 

Upon  thine  image  by  no  covering  veird." 

"Brother I"    he  thus  rejoin'd,    "in  the  last  sphere 
Expect  completion  of  thy  lofty  aim : 
For  there  on  each  desire  completion  waits, 
And  there  on  mine;   where  every  aim  is  found 
Perfect,  entire,  and  for  fulfilment  ripe. 
There  all  things  are  as  they  have  ever  been : 
For  space  is  none  to  bound  ;    nor  pole  divides. 
Our  ladder  reaches  even  to  that  clime; 
And  so,  at  giddy  distance,  mocks  thy  view. 
Thither  the  patriarch  Jacob    saw  it  stretch 
Us  topmost  round  ;    when  it  appear'd  to  him 
With  angels  laden.      But  to  mount  it  now 
None  lifts  his  foot  from  earth  :    and  hence  my  rule 
Is  left  a  profitless  stain  upon  the  leaves  ; 
The  walls,  for  abbey  rear'd,  turned  into  dens ; 
The  cowls,  to  sacks  choak'd  up  with  musty  meal. 
Foul  usury  doth  not  more  lift  itself 
Against  God's  pleasure,  than  that  fruit,  which  makes 
The  hearts  of  monks  so  wanton  :    for  whate'er 
Is  in  the  church's  keeping,  all  pertains 
To  such,  as  sue  for  heaven's  sweet  sake  ;   and  not 
To  those,  who  in  respect  of  kindred  claim, 
Or  on  more  vile  allowance.      Mortal  flesh 
Is  grown  so  dainty,  good  beginnings  last  not 
From  the  oak's  birth  unto  the  acorn's  setting. 
His  convent  Peter  founded  without  gold 
Or  silver;    I,  with  prayers  and  fasting,  mine; 
And  Francis,  his  in  meek  humility. 
And  if  thou  note  the  point,  whence  each  proceeds. 
Then  look  what  it  hath  err'd  to;    thou  s^halt  find 
The  white  grown  murky.      Jordan  was  turn'd  back  j 
And  a  less  wonder,  than  the  refluent  sea, 
May,  at  God's  pleasure,  work  amendment   here.* 

So  saying,  to  his  assembly  back  he  ilrew: 
And  they  together  cluster'd  into  one  ; 


254  TME    VISION. 

Then  all  rolled   upward,  like  an  eddying  wind. 

The  sweet  dame  beckon'd  me  to  follow  them: 
And,  by  that  influence  only,  so  prevail'd 
Over  my  nature,  that  no  natural   motion, 
Ascending  or  descending  here  below. 
Had,  as  I  mounted,  with  my  pennon  vied. 

So,  reader,  as  my  hope  is  to  return 
•  Unto  the  holy  triumph,  for  the  which 
I  oft-times  wail  my  sins,  and  smite  my  breast ; 
Thou  hadst  been  longer  drawing  out  and  thrusting 
Thy  finger  in  the  fire,  than  I  was,  ere 
The  sign,    that  followeth  Taurus,  I  beheld, 
And  enter'd  its  precinct.      O  glorious  stars  I 
O  light  impregnate  with  exceeding  virtue  I 
To  whom  whate'er  of  genius  lifteth  me 
Above  the  vulgar,  grateful  I  refer ; 
With  ye  the  parent    of  all  mortal  life 
Arose  and  set,  when  I  did  first  inhale 
The  Tuscan  air ;    and  afterward,  when  grace 
Vouchsafed  me  entrance  to  the  lofty  wheel 
That  in  its  orb  impels  ye,  fate  decreed 
My  passage  at  your  clime.      To  you  my  soul 
Devoutly  sighs,  for  virtue,  even  now. 
To  meet  the  hard  emprize  that  draws  me  on. 

"Thou  art  so  near  the  sum  of  blessedness," 
Said  Beatrice,  "  that  behoves  thy  ken 
Be  vigilant  and  clear.      And,  to  this  end, 
Or  ever  thou  advance  thee  further,  hence 
Look  downward,  and  contemplate,  what  a  world 
Already  stretch'd  under  our  feet  there  lies  : 
So  as  thy  heart  may,  in  its  blithest  mood, 
Present  itself  to  the  triumphal  throng, 
Which,  through  the  ethereal  concave,  comes  rejoicing.' 

I  straight  obey'd  ;   and  with  mine  eye  return'd 
Through  all  the  seven  spheres  ;    and  saw  this  globe 
So  pitiful  of  semblance,  that  perforce 


96—131 


rARAUlSR.— CANTO    XXII.  255 

It  moved  my  smiles  :   and  him  in  truth  I  hold 

For  wisest,  who  esteems  it  least ;   whose  thoughts 

Elsewhere  are  fix'd,  him  worthiest  call  and  best. 

I  saw  the  daughter  of  Latona  shine 

Without  the  shadow,    whereof  late  I  deem'd 

That  dense  and  rare  were  cause.      Here  I  sustain'd 

The  visage,  Hyperion,  of  thy  son  ; 

And  mark'd,  how  near  him  with  their  circles,  round 

Move  Maia  and  Dione ;     here  discern'd 

Jove's  tempering  'twixt  his  sire  and  son  ;     and  hence. 

Their  changes  and  their  various  aspects. 

Distinctly  scann'd.      Nor  might  I  not  desciy 

Of  all  the  seven,  how  bulky  each,  how  swift ; 

Nor,  of  their  several  distances,  not  learn. 

This  petty  area  (o'er  the  which  we  stride 

So  fiercely),  as  along  the  eternal  Twins 

I  wound  my  way,  appear'd  before  me  all. 

Forth  from  the  havens  stretch'd  unto  the  hills. 

Then,  to  the  beauteous  eyes,  mine  eyes  return'd. 


CANTO     XXIII. 


ARGUMENT. 


H«  MM   CbfiM   triumphing   with   hit  church.       The   Saviour   ascends,  foUowed  by  hlj  rtfln  MnOtcr.       Th« 

remain  with  Sl  Peter. 

"P'EN  as  the  bird,  who  midst  the  leafy  bower 
■*~^     Has,  in  her  nest,  sat  darkling  through  tlu    m 
With  her  sweet  brood  ;    impatient  to  descry 
Their  wished  looks,  and  to  bring  home  their  food, 
In  the  fond  quest  unconscious  of  her  toil : 
She,  of  the  time  prevenient,  on  the  spray, 
That  overhangs  their  couch,  with  wakeful  gaze 
Expects  the  sun  ;    nor  ever,  till  the  dawn, 
Removeth  from  the  east  her  eager  ken  : 
So  stood  the  dame  erect,  and  bent  her  glance 
Wistfully  on  that  region,    where  the  sun 
Abateth  most  his  speed  ;    that,  seeing  her 
Suspense  and  wondering,  I  became  as  one, 
In  whom  desire  is  waken'd,  and  the  hope 
Of  somewhat  new  to  come  fills  with  delight. 

Short  space  ensued  ;    I  was  not  held,  I  say, 
Long  in  expectance,  when  I  saw  the  heaven 
Wax  more  and  more  resplendent ;   and,  "  Behold," 
Cried  Beatrice,  "the  triumphal  hosts 
Of  Christ,  and  all  the  harvest  gather'd  in, 
Made  ripe  by  these  revolving  spheres."      Meseem'd, 
That,  while  she  spake,  her  image  all  did  burn  ; 
And  in  her  eyes  such  fulness  was  of  joy, 
As  I  am  fain  to  pass  unconstrued  by. 

As  in  the  calm  full  moon,  when  Trivia    smiles, 
In  peerless  beauty,  'mid  the  eternal  nymphs. 


Again  mine  eyes  were  fiy'd  on  Beatrice  ; 

And,  with  mine  eyes,  my   soul  that  in  her  lool<s 

Found  all  contentment. 


Cnnto  XXI..   lints    1-3. 


D.,un    ulh.sc   steps 
I   saw  the  splciulouis  in  such   multitude 
Descending,  every  light  in  heaven,  methought, 
Was  shed  thence. 

Canto  XXI.. 


28-31, 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XXIII.  257 

That  paint  through  all  its  gulfs  the  blue  profound ; 
In  bright  pre-eminence  so  saw  I  there 
O'er  million  lamps  a  sun,  from  whom  all  drew 
Their  radiance,  as  from  ours  the  starry  train  : 
And,  through  the  living  light,  so  lustrous  glow'd 
The  substance,  that  my  ken  endured  it  not. 

0  Beatrice  I    sweet  and  precious  guide, 
Who  cheer'd  me  with  her  comfortable  words  : 
"Against  the  virtue,  that  o'erpowereth  thee, 
Avails  not  to  resist.      Here  is  the  Might, 
And  here  the  Wisdom,  which  did  open  lay 
The  path,  that  had  been  yearned  for  so  long. 
Betwixt  the  heaven  and  earth."      Like  to  the  tire, 
That,  in  a  cloud  imprison'd,  doth  break  out 
Expansive,  so  that  from  its  womb  enlarged, 

It  falleth  against   nature  to  the  ground  ; 
Thus,  in  that  heavenly  banqueting,  my  soul 
Outgrew  herself ;    and,  in  the  transport  lost, 
Holds  now  remembrance  none  of  what  she  was. 

"  Ope  thou  thine  eyes,  and  mark  me :    thou  hast  seen 
Things,  that  empower  thee  to  sustain  my  smile." 

1  was  as  one,  when  a  forgotten  dream 
Doth  come  across  him,  and  he  strives  in  vain 
To  shape  it  in  his  fantasy  again  : 

Whenas  that  gracious  boon  was  proffer'd  me, 

Which  never  may  be  cancel'd  from  the  book 

Wherein  the  past   is  written.      Now  were  all 

Those  tongues  to  sound,  that   have,  on  sweetest  milk 

Of  Polyhymnia  and  her  sisters,  fed 

And  fatten'd  ;    not  with  all  their  help  to  bout, 

Unto  the  thousandth  parcel  of  the  truth. 

My  song  might  shadow  forth  that  saintly  smile, 

How  merely,  in  her  saintly  looks,  it  v/rought. 

And,  with  such  figuring  of  Paradise, 

The  sacred  strain  must  leap,  like  one  that  meets 

A  sudden  interruption  to  his  road. 


25S  THE    VISION'.  63-9^ 

But  he,  who  thinks  how  ponderous  the  theme, 
And  that  'tis  laid  upon  a  mortal  shoulder, 
May  pardon,  if  it  tremble  with  the  burden. 
The  track,  our  venturous  keel  must  furrow,  brooks 
No  unribb'd  pinnace,  no  self-sparing  pilot. 

"  Why  doth  my  face,"  said  Beatrice,  "  thus 
Enamour  thee,  as  that  thou  dost  not  turn 
Unto  the  beautiful  garden,  blossoming 
Beneath  the  rays  of  Christ  ?      Here  is  the  rose, 
Wherein  the  Word  Divine  was  made  incarnate; 
And  here  the  lilies,    by  whose  odour  known 
The  way  of  life  was  follow'd."      Prompt  I  heard 
Her  bidding,  and  encounter'd  once  again 
The  strife  of  aching  vision.      As,  erewhile, 
Through  glance  of  sun-light,  stream'd  through  broken  cloud, 
Mine  eyes  a  flower-besprinkled  mead  have  seen; 
Though  veil'd  themselves  in  shade :   so  saw  I  there 
Legions  of  splendours,  on  whom  burning  rays 
Shed  lightnings  from  above  ;   yet  saw  I  not 
The  fountain  whence  they  flovv'd.      O  gracious  virtue ! 
Thou,  whose  broad  stamp  is  on  them,  higher  up 
Thou  didst  exalt  thy  glory,    to  give  room 
To  my  o'erlabour'd  sight ;    when  at  the  name 
Of  that  fair  flower,    whom  duly  I  invoke 
Both  morn  and  eve,  my  soul  with  all  her  might 
Collected,  on  the  goodliest  ardour  fix'd. 
And,  as  the  bright  dimensions  of  the  star 
In  heaven  excelling,  as  once  here  on  earth. 
Were,  in  my  eye-balls  livelily  pourtray'd ; 
Lo  I    from  within  the  sky  a  cresset    fell, 
Circling  in  fashion  of  a  diadem  ; 
And  girt  the  star;   and,  hovering,  round  it  wheel'd. 

Whatever  melody  sounds  sweetest  here, 
And  draws  the  spirit  most  unto  itself, 
Might  seem  a  rent  cloud,  when  it  grates  the  thunaer; 
Compared  unto  the  sounding  of  that  lyre, 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XXIII.  259 

Wherewith  the  goodliest  sapphire,    that  inlays 
The  floor  of  heaven,  was  crown'd.      "Angelic  Love 
I  am,  who  thus  with  hovering  flight  enwhecl 
The  lofty  rapture  from  that  womb  inspired. 
Where  our  desire  did  dwell  ;    and  round  thee  so, 
Lady  of  Heaven  I   will  hover ;   long  as  thou 
Thy  Son  shalt  follow,  and  diviner  joy 
Shall  from  thy  presence  gild  the  highest  sphere." 

Such  close  was  to  the  circling  melody: 
And,  as  it  ended,  all  the  other  lights 
Took  up  the  strain,  and  echoed  Mary's  name. 

The  robe,    that  with  its  regal  folds  enwraps 
The  world,  and  with  the  nearer  breath  of  God 
Doth  burn  and  quiver,  held  so  far  retired 
Its  inner  hem  and  skirting  over  us, 
That  yet  no  glimmer  of  its  majesty 
Had  stream'd  unto  me :   therefore  were  mine  eyes 
Unequal  to  pursue  the  crowned  flame, 
That  towering  rose,  and  sought  the  seed     it  bore. 
And  like  to  babe,  that  stretches  forth  its  arms 
For  very  eagerness  toward  the  breast. 
After  the  milk  is  taken;   so  outstretch'd 
Their  wavy  summits  all  the  fervent  band. 
Through  zealous  love  to  Mary  :    then,  in  view, 
There  halted  ;   and  "  Regina  Coeli  "    sang 
So  sweetly,  the  delight  hath  left  me  never. 

Oh  I    what  o'erflowing  plenty  is  up-piled 
In  those  rich-laden  coffers,    which  below 
Sow'd  the  good  seed,  whose  harvest  now  they  keep. 
Here  are  the  treasures  tasted,  that  with  tears 
Were  in  the  Babylonian  exile    won, 
When  gold  had  fail'd  them.      Here,  in  synod  high 
Of  ancient  council  with  the  new  convened. 
Under  the  Son  of  Mary  and  of  God, 
Victorious  he    his  mighty  triumph  holds, 
To  whom  the  keys  of  glory  were  assign'd. 


CANTO      XXIV. 


ARGUMENT. 
St  Peter  examines  Dante  touching  Faith,  and  U  contented  with  his 

'  /^"^    YE  I    in  chosen  fellowship  advanced 
^-^     To  the  great  supper  of  the  blessed  Lamb, 
Whereon  who  feeds  hath  every  wish  fulfill'd  ; 
If  to  this  man  through  God's  grace  be  vouchsafed 
Foretaste  of  that,  which  from  your  table  falls, 
Or  ever  death  his  fated  term  prescribe  ; 
Be  ye  not  heedless  of  his  urgent  will  : 
But  may  some  influence  of  your  sacred  dews 
Sprinkle  him.      Of  tHe  fount  ye  alway  drink. 
Whence  flows  what  most  he  craves."      Beatrice  spake; 
And  the  rejoicing  spirits,  like  to  spheres 
On  firm-set  poles  revolving,  trail'd  a  blaze 
Of  comet  splendour:   and  as  wheels,  that  wind 
Their  circles  in  the  horologe,  so  work 
The  stated  rounds,  that  to  the  observant  eye 
The  first  seems  still,  and  as  it  flew,  the  last; 
E'en  thus  their  carols    weaving  variously. 
They,  by  the  measure  paced,  or  swift,  or  slow, 
Made  me  to  rate  the  riches    of  their  joy. 

From  that,    which   I  did  note  in  beauty  most 
Excelling,  saw  I  issue  forth  a  flame 
So  bright,  as  none  was  left  more  goodly  there. 
Round  Beatrice  thrice  it  wheel'd  about, 
With  so  divine  a  song,  that  fancy's  ear    • 


PARADISE— CANTO    XXIV.  261 

Records  it  not ;   and  the  pen  passeth  on, 
And  leaves  a  blank :    for  that  our  mortal  speech. 
Nor  e'en  the  inward  shaping  of  the  brain, 
Hath  colours  fine  enough  to  trace  such  folds. 

"O  saintly  sister  mine!    thy  prayer  devout 
Is  with  so  vehement  affection  urged, 
Thou  dost  unbind  me  from  thy  beauteous  sphere." 

Such  were  the  accents  towards  my  lady  breathed 
From  that  blest  ardour,  soon  as  it  was  stay'd  ; 
To  whom  she  thus :    "  O  everlasting  light 
Of  him,  within  whose  mighty  grasp  our  Lord 
Did  leave  the  keys,  which  of  this  wondrous  bliss 
He  bare  below!    tent    this  man  as  thou  wilt, 
With  lighter  probe  or  deep,  touching  the  faith, 
By  the  which  thou  didst  on  the  billows  walk. 
If  he  in  love,  in  hope,  and  in  belief, 
Be  stedfast,  is  not  hid  from  thee :    for  thou 
Hast  there  thy  ken,  where  all  things  are  beheld 
In  liveliest  portraiture.     But  since  true  faith 
Has  peopled  this  fair  realm  with  citizens ; 
Meet  is,  that  to  exalt  its  glory  more, 
Thou,  in  his  audience,  shouldst  thereof  discourse." 

Like  to  the  bachelor,  who  arms  himself. 
And  speaks  not,  till  the  master  have  proposed 
The  question,  to  approve,    and  not  to  end  it; 
So  I,  in  silence,  arm'd  me,  while  she  spake, 
Summoning  up  each  argument  to  aid ; 
As  was  behoveful  for  such  questioner. 
And  such  profession :    "  As  good  Christian  ought, 
Declare  thee,  what  is  faith?"     Whereat  I  raised 
My  forehead  to  the  light,  whence  this  had  breathed  j 
Then  turn'd  to  Beatrice ;   and  in  her  looks 
Approval  met,  that  from  their  inmost  fount 
I  should  unlock  the  waters.     "  May  the  grace, 
That  giveth  me  the  captain  of  the  church 
For  confessor,"  said  I,  "vouchsafe  to  me 
Apt  utterance  for  my  thoughts  ;  "   then  added  :    "  Sire  I 


262  Tilt:    VISION.  62—97. 

E'en  as  set  down  by  the  unerring  style 

Of  thy  dear  brother,  who  with  thee  conspired 

To  bring  Rome  in  unto  the  way  of  life, 

Faith    of  things  hoped  is  substance,  and  the  proof 

Of  things  not  seen ;   and  herein  doth  consist 

Methinks  its  essence." — "  Rightly  hast  thou  deem'd," 

Was  answer'd  ;    "  if  thou  well  discern,  why  first 

He  hath  defined  it  substance,  and  then  proof." 

"  The  deep  things,"  I  replied,  which  here  I  scan 
Distinctly,  are  below  from  mortal  eye 
So  hidden,  they  have  in  belief  alone 
Their  being;   on  which  credence,  hope  sublime 
Is  built:   and,  therefore  substance,  it  intends. 
And  inasmuch  as  we  must  needs  infer 
From  such  belief  our  reasoning,  all  respect 
To  other  view  excluded  ;   hence  of  proof 
The  intention  is  derived."     Forthwith  I  heard: 
"  If  thus,  whate'er  by  learning  men  attain, 
Were  understood;   the  sophist  would  want  room 
To  exercise  his  wit."     So  breathed  the  flame 
Of  love;    then  added:    "Current    is  the  coin 
Thou  utter'st,  both  in  weight  and  m  alloy. 
But  tell  me,  if  thou  hast  it  in  thy  purse." 

"  Even  so  glittering  and  so  round,"  said  I, 
"  I  not  a  whit  misdoubt  of  its  assay." 

Next  issued    from  the  deep-imbosom'd  splendour  : 
*'  Say,  whence  the  costly  jewel,  on  the  which 
Is  founded  every  virtue,  came  to  thee." 

"  The  flood,"  I  answer'd,  "  from  the  Spirit  of  God 
Rain'd  down  upon  the  ancient  bond  and  new,  — 
Here  is  the  reasoning,  that  convinceth  me 
So  feelingly,  each  argument  beside 
Seems  blunt,  and  forceless,  in  comparison." 
Then  heard  I  :    "  Wherefore  boldest  thou  that  each, 
The  elder  proposition  and  the  new, 
Which  so  persuade  thee,  are  the  voice  of  heaven?** 


PARADISE.— CANTO   XXIV.  263 

"The  works,  that  follow'd,  evidence  their  truth," 
I  answer'd :    "  Nature  did  not  make  for  these 
The  iron  hot,  or  on  her  anvil  mold  them." 

"  Who  voucheth  to  thee  of  the  works  themselves," 
Was  the  reply,  "  that  they  in  very  deed 
Are  that  they  purport  ?     None  hath  sworn  so  to  thee." 

"That  all  the  world,"    said   I,  "should   have  been  turn'd 
To  Christian,  and  no  miracle  been  wrought. 
Would  in  itself  be  such  a  miracle, 
The  rest  were  not  an  hundredth  part  so  great. 
E'en  thou  went'st  forth  in  poverty  and  hunger 
To  set  the  goodly  plant,  that,  from  the  vine 
It  once  was,  now  is  grown  unsightly  bramble." 

That  ended,  through  the  high  celestial  court 
Resounded  all  the  spheres,  "Praise  we  one  God  I" 
In  song  of  most  unearthly  melody. 
And  when  that  Worthy    thus,  from  branch  to  branch, 
E.xamining,  had  led  me,  that  we  now 
Approach'd  the  topmost  bough ;   he  straight  resumed  : 
"The  grace,  that  holds  sweet  dalliance  with  thy  soul, 
So  far  discreetly  hath  thy  lips  unclosed  ; 
That,  whatsoe'er  has  past  them,  I  commend. 
Behoves  thee  to  express,  what  thou  believest, 
The  next ;   and,  whereon,  thy  belief  hath  grown,* 

"O  saintly  sire  and  spirit!"   I  began, 
"  Who  seest  that,  which  thou  didst  so  believe, 
As  to  outstrip    feet  younger  than  thine  O'vn, 
Toward  the  sepulchre  ;    thy  will  is  here, 
That  I  the  tenour  of  my  creed  unfold  ; 
And  thou,  the  cause  of  it,  hast  likewise  ask'd. 
And  I  reply:    I  in  one  God  believe; 
One  sole  eternal  Godhead,  of  whose  love 
All  heaven  is  moved,  himself  unmoved  the  while. 
Nor  demonstration  physical  alone, 
Or  more  intelligential  and  abstruse, 
Persuade.s  me  to  this  faith  :   but  from  that  truth 


26a  the   vision. 

It  Cometh  to  me  rather,  which  is  shed 

Through  Moses;   the  rapt  Prophets;   and  the  Psalms; 

The  Gospel ;    and  what  ye  yourselves  did  write, 

When  ye  were  gifted  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

In  three  eternal  Persons  I  believe ; 

Essence  threefold  and  one;    mysterious  league 

Of  union  absolute,  which,  many  a  time. 

The  word  of  gospel  lore  upon  my  mind 

Imprints  :   and  from  this  germ,  this  firstling  spark 

The  lively  flame  dilates;   and,  like  heaven's  star, 

Doth  glitter  in  me."      As  the  master  hears, 

Well  pleased,  and  then  enfoldeth  in  his  arms 

The  servant,  who  hath  joyful  tidings  brought, 

And  having  told  the  errand  keeps  his  peace: 

Thus  benediction  uttering  with  song. 

Soon  as  my  peace  I  held,  compass'd  me  thrice 

The  apostolic  radiance,  whose  behest 

Had  oped  my  lips  :   so  well  their  answer  pleased. 


CANTO     XXV. 


ARGUMENT. 


.  James  questions  our  Port  concerning  Hope.  Next  St.  John  appears  ;  and,  on  ptrctMng  th»t  Dante  looks  Intently  < 
him,  informs  him  that  he  (St.  John)  had  left  his  body  resolved  into  earth,  upon  the  earth  ;  and  that  Christ  and  tl 
Virgin  alone  had  come  with  tlieir  bodies  into  heaven. 

TF  e'er  the  sacred  poem,  that  hath  made 

^     Both  heaven  and  earth  copartners  in  its  toil, 

And  with  lean  abstinence,  through  many  a  year, 

Faded  my  brow,  be  destined  to  prevail 

Over  the  cruelty,  which  bars  me  forth 

Of  the  fair  sheep-fold,    where,  a  sleeping  lamb, 

The  wolves  set  on  and  fain  had  worried  me ; 

With  other  voice,  and  fleece  of  other  grain, 

I  shall  forthwith  return  ;  and,  standing  up 

At  my  baptismal  font,  shall  claim  the  wreath 

Due  to  the  poet's  temples  :    for  I  there 

First  enter'd  on  the  faith,  which  maketh  souls 

Acceptable  to  God  :   and,  for  its  sake, 

Peter  had  then  circled  my  forehead  thus. 

Next  from  the  squadron,  whence  had  issued  forth 
The  first  fruit  of  Christ's  vicars  on  the  earth, 
Toward  us  moved  a  light,  at  view  whereof 
My  Lady,  full  of  gladness,  spake  to  me : 
Lo  1    lo  I    behold  the  peer  of  mickle  might, 
That  makes  Galicia  throng 'd  with  visitants." 

As  when  the  ring-dove  by  his  mate  alights; 
In  circles,  each  about  the  other  wheels, 
And,  murmuring,  cooes  his  fondness:   thus  saw  I 
One,  of  the  other    great  and  glorious  prince, 
With  kindly  greeting,  hail'd ;   extolling,  both, 


266  THK    VISION. 

Their  heavenly  banqueting:   b«t  when  an  end 
Was  to  their  gratulation,  silent,  each, 
Before  me  sat  they  down,  so  burning  bright, 
1  could  not  look  upon  them.      Smiling  then, 
Beatrice  spake :    "  O  life  in  glory  shrined  I 
Who    didst  the  largess    of  our  kingly  court 
Set  down  with  faithful  pen  ;    let  now  thy  voice, 
Of  hope  the  praises,  in  this  height  resound. 
For  well  thou  know'st,  who  figurest  it  as  oft. 
As  Jesus,  to  ye  three,  more  brightly  shone." 

"Lift  up  thy  head;    and  be  thou  strong  in  trust: 
For  that,  which  hither  from  the  mortal  world 
Arriveth,  must  be  ripen'd  in  our  beam." 
Such  cheering  accents  from  .the  second  flame 
Assured  me;   and  mine  eyes  I  lifted  up 
U;ito  the  mountains,  that  had  bow'd  them  late 
With  over-heavy  burden.      "  Sith  our  Liege 
Wills  of  his  grace,  that  thou,  or  e'er  thy  death, 
In  the  most  secret  council  with  his  lords 
Shouldst  be  confronted,  so  that  having  view'd 
The  glories  of  our  court,  thou  mayst  therewith 
Thyself,  and  all  who  hear,  invigorate 
With  hope,  that  leads  to  blissful  end  ;   declare. 
What  is  that  hope?   how  it  doth  flourish  in  thee? 
And  whence  thou  hadst  it?"     Thus,  proceeding  still, 
The  second  light :    and  she,  whose  gentle  love 
My  soaring  pennons  in  that  lofty  flight 
Escorted,  thus  preventing  me,  rejoin'd  : 
"  Among  her  sons,  not  one  more  full  of  hope, 
Hath  the  church  militant :   so  'tis  of  him 
Recorded  in  the  sun,  whose  liberal  orb 
Enlighteneth  all  our  tribe:    and  ere  his  term 
Of  warfare,  hence  permitted  he  is  come. 
From  Egypt  to  Jerusalem,    to  see. 
The  other  points,  both  which    thou  hast  inquired, 
Not  for  more  knowledge,  but  that  he  may  tell 


62—96 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XXV.  267 

How  dear  thou  hold'st  the  virtue;   these  to  him 
Leave  I :    for  he  may  answer  thee  with  ease, 
And  without  boasting,  so  God  give  him  grace." 

Like  to  the  scholar,  practised  in  his  task, 
Who,  willing  to  give  proof  of  diligence, 
Seconds  his  teacher  gladly;   "Hope,"    said  I, 
"  Is  of  the  joy  to  come  a  sure  expectance, 
The  effect  of  grace  divine  and  merit  preceding. 
This  light  from  many  a  star,  visits  my  heart; 
But  flow'd  to  me,  the  first,  from  him  who  sang 
The  songs  of  the  Supreme  ;   himself  supreme 
Among  his  tuneful  brethren.     '  Let  all  hope 
In  thee,'  so  spake  his  anthem,    'who  have  known 
Thy  name;'  and,  with  my  faith,  who  know  not  that? 
From  thee,  the  next,  distilling  from  his  spring. 
In  thine  epistle,  fell  on  me  the  drops 
So  plenteously,  that  I  on  others  shower 
The  influence  of  their  dew."     Whileas  I  spake, 
A  lamping,  as  of  quick  and  volley 'd  lightning, 
Within  the  bosom  of  that  mighty  sheen 
Play'd  tremulous ;   then  forth  these  accents  breathed  : 
•*  Love  for  the  virtue,  which  attended  me 
E'en  to  the  palm,  and  issuing  from  the  field. 
Glows  vigorous  yet  within  me;   and  inspires 
To  ask  of  thee,  whom  also  it  delights. 
What  promise  thou  from  hope,  in  chief,  dost  win." 

"  Both  scriptures,  new  and  ancient,"  I  replied, 
"  Propose  the  mark  (which  even  now  I  view) 
For  souls  beloved  of  God.     Isaias    saith, 
'That,  in  their  own  land,  each  one  must  be  clad 
In  twofold  vesture;'  and  their  proper  land 
Is  this  delicious  life.     In  terms  more  full, 
And  clearer  far,  thy  brother  hath  set  forth 
This  revelation  to  us,  where  he  tells 
Of  the  white  raiment  destined  to  the  saints." 


^68  THE    VISION. 

And,  as  the  words  were  ending,  from  above, 

"They  hope  in  thee  I"   first  heard  we  cried:    whereto 

Answer'd  the  carols  all.     Amidst  them  next, 

A  light  of  so  clear  amplitude  emerged, 

That  winter's  month    were  but  a  single  day, 

Were  such  a  crystal  in  the  Cancer's  sign. 

Like  as  a  virgin     riseth  up,  and  goes, 
And  enters  on  the  mazes  of  the  dance; 
Though  gay,  yet  innocent  of  worse  intent. 
Than  to  do  fitting  honour  to  the  bride: 
So  I  beheld  the  new  effulgence  come 
Unto  the  other  two,  who  in  a  ring 
Wbeel'd,  as  became  their  rapture.     In  the  dance, 
And  in  the  song,  it  mingled.     And  the  dame 
Held  on  them  fix'd  her  looks ;   e'en  as  the  spouss, 
Silent,  and  moveless.     "  This    is  he,  who  lay 
Upon  the  bosom  of  our  pelican  : 
This  he,  into  whose  keeping,  from  the  cross, 
The  mighty  charge  was  given."    Thus  she  spake : 
Yet  therefore  nought  the  more  removed  her  sight 
From  marking  them :   or  e'er  her  words  began. 
Or  when  they  closed.     As  he,  who  looks  intent, 
And  strives  with  seaiching  ken,  how  he  may  see 
The  sun  in  his  eclipse,  and,  through  desire 
Of  seeing,  loseth  power  of  sight ;   so  I 
Peer'd  on  that  last  resplendence,  while  I  heard: 
"  Why  dazzlest  thou  thine  eyes  in  seeking  that. 
Which  here  abides  not?     Earth  my  body  is. 
In  earth  ;   and  shall  be,  with  the  rest,  so  long, 
As  till  our  number  equal  the  decree 
Of  the  Most  High.     The  two  that  have  ascended. 
In  this  our  blessed  cloister,  shine  alone 
With  the  two  garments.     So  report  below." 

As  when,  for  ease  of  labour,  or  to  shun 
Suspected  peril,  at  a  whistle's  breath. 
The  oars,  erewhile  dash'd  frequent  in  the  wave, 
All  rest :   the  flamy  circle  at  that  voice 


PARADISK.-CANTO    XXV.  269 

So  rested  ;   and  the  mingling  sound  was  still, 
Which  from  the  trinal  band,  soft-breathing,  rose 
I  turn'd,  but  ah  I   how  trembled  in  my  thoui^^ht, 
When,  looking  at  my  side  again  to  see 
Beatrice,   I  descried  her  not ;    although, 
Not  distant,  on  the  happy  coast  she  stood. 


CANTO     XXVI. 


ARGUMENT. 


John  examine*  our  P««t  teaching  Charity.  Afterwards  Adam  tells  when  he  wa»  created,  and  placed  in  the  terrestrial 
Paradise  ;  bow  long  he  remained  in  that  itate  ;  what  was  the  occasion  of  his  fall ;  when  he  was  admitted  into 
heaven  ;  and  what  language  he  spake. 

"\  1 /"ITH  dazzled  eyes,  whilst  wondering  I  remain'd ; 

'  ^       Forth  of  the  beamy  flame,    which  dazzled  riie, 
Issued  a  breath,  that  in  attention  mute 
Detain'd  me ;   and  these  words  it  spake :   "Twere  well, 
That,  long  as  till  thy  vision,  on  my  form 
O'erspent,  regain  its  virtue,  with  discourse 
Thou  compensate  the  brief  delay.      Say  then, 
Beginning,  to  what  point  thy  soul  aspires : 
And  meanwhile  rest  assured,  that  sight  in  thee 
Is  but  o'erpower'd  a  space,  not  wholly  quench'd ; 
Since  thy  fair  guide  and  lovely,  in  her  look 
Hath  potency,  the  like  to  that,  which  dwelt 
In  Ananias'  hand."  — I  answering  thus : 
'•  Be  to  mine  eyes  the  remedy,  or  late 
Or  early,  at  her  pleasure ;  for  they  were 
The  gates,  at  which  she  enter'd,  and  did  light 
Her  never-dying  fire.      My  wishes  here 
Are  centred :    in  this  palace  is  the  weal, 
That  Alpha  and  Omega  is,  to  all 
The  lessons  love  can  read  me."      Yet  again 
The  voice,  which  had  dispersed  my  fear  when  dazed 
With  that  excess,  to  converse  urged,  and  spake : 
'•  Behoves  thee  sift  more  narrowly  thy  terms ; 
And  say,  who  levell'd  at  this  scope  thy  bow." 
"  Philosophy,"  said  I,  "  hath  arguments, 

\nd  this  place  hath  authority  enough, 


PARADISE. -CANTO   XXVI. 

To  imprint  in  me  such  love :   for,  of  constraint 

Good,  inasmuch  as  we  perceive  the  good, 

Kindles  our  love;   and  in  degree  the  more, 

As  it  comprises  more  of  goodness  in  't. 

The  essence  then,  where  such  advantage  is, 

That  each  good,  found  without  it,  is  nought  else 

But  of  his  light  the  beam,  must  needs  attract 

The  soul  of  each  one,  loving,  who  the  truth 

Discerns,  on  which  this  proof  is  built.      Such  truth 

Learn  I  from  him,    who  shows  me  the  first  love 

Of  all  intelligcntial  substances 

Eternal :    from  his  voice  I  learn,  whose  word 

Is  truth ;   that  of  himself  to  Moses  saith, 

'  I  will  make    all  my  good  before  thee  pass  : ' 

Lastly,  from  thee  I  learn,  who  chief  proclaim'st 

E'en  at  the  outset    of  thy  heralding, 

In  mortal  ears  the  mystery  of  heaven." 

"  Through  human  wisdom,  and  the  authority 
Therewith  agreeing,"  heard  I  answer'd,  "  keep 
The  choicest  of  thy  love  for  God.      But  say. 
If  thou  yet  other  cords  within  thee  feel'st. 
That  draw  thee  towards  him  ;   so  that  thou  report 
How  many  are  the  fangs,  with  which  this  love 
Is  grappled  to  thy  soul."      I  did  not  miss, 
To  what  intent  the  eagle  of  our  Lord 
Had  pointed  his  demand  ;   yea,  noted  well 
The  avowal  which  he  led  to ;   and  resumed  : 
"  All  grappling  bonds,  that  knit  the  heart  to  God, 
Confederate  to  make  fast  our  charity. 
The  being  of  the  world;   and  mine  own  being; 
The  death  which  He  endured,  that  I  should  live; 
And  that,  which  all  the  faithful  hope,  as  I  do ; 
To  the  foremention'd  lively  knowledge  join'd  ; 
Have  from  the  sea  of  ill  love  saved  my  bark. 
And  on  the  coast  secured  it  of  the  right. 
As  for  the  leaves,    that  in  the  garden  bloom, 


Tin-:  VISION.  63-98 

My  love  for  them  is  great,  as  is  the  good 
Dealt  by  the  eternal  hand,  that  tends  thein  all." 
I  ended  :    and  therewith  a  song  most  sweet 
Rang  through  the  spheres ;   and  '*  Holy,  holy,  holy,* 
Accordant  with  the  rest,  my  lady  sang. 
And  as  a  sleep  is  broken  and  dispersed 
Through  sharp  encounter  of  the  nimble  light. 
With  the  eye's  spirit  running  forth  to  meet 
The  ray,  from  membrane  on  to  membrane  urged ; 
And  the  upstartled  wight  loathes  that  he  sees; 
So,  at  his  sudden  waking,  he  misdeems 
Of  all  around  him,  till  assurance  waits 
On  bettei  judgment:    thus  the  saintly  dame 
Drove  from  before  mine  eyes  the  motes  away, 
With  the  resplendence  of  her  own,  that  cast 
Their  brightness  downward,  thousand  miles  below. 
Whence  I  my  vision,  clearer  than  before, 
Recover'd  ;   and  well  nigh  astounded,  ask'd 
Of  a  fourth  light,  that  now  with  us  I  saw. 
And  Beatrice:    "The  first  living  soul, 
That  ever  the  first  virtue  framed,    admires 
Within  these  rays  his  Maker."      Like  the  leaf, 
That  bows  its  lithe  top  till  the  blast  is  blo^vn; 

By  its  own  virtue  rear'd,  then  stands  aloof: 

So  I,  the  whilst  she  said,  awe-stricken  bow'd. 

Then  eagerness  to  speak  embolden'd  me; 

And  I  began  :   "  O  fruit  I  that  wast  alone 

Mature,  when  first  engender'd  ;   ancient  father  I 

That  doubly  seest  in  every  wedded  bride 

Thy  daughter,  by  affinity  and  blood  ; 

Devoutly  as  I  may,  I  pray  thee  hold 

Converse  with  me :   my  will  thou  seest :   and  I, 

More  speedily  to  hear  thee,  tell  it  not.' 
It  chariceth  oft  some  animal  bewrays, 

Through  the  sleek  covering    of  his  furry  coat. 

The  fondness,  that  stirs  in  him,  and  conforms 


F 


m 


f» 


^ 


Say  then, 
Beginning,  to  what  point  thy  soul  aspires: 
And  meanwhile  rest  assured,  that  sight  in  thee 
Is  but  o'erpower'd  a  space,  not  wholly  quench'd. 

Canto  XXVI.,  lines  7-10. 


Then  "Glor>-  to  the  Father,  to  the  Son, 
And  to  the   Holy  Spirit,"  rang  aloud 
'^hrouehout  all  Paradire  •  *hat  with  the  song 
My  spirit  reel'd,  so  passing  sweet  the  strain. 

Cantn  X.Xr//..   lim 


PARADISE.— CANTO   XXVI. 

His  outside  seeming  to  the  cheer  within  : 

And  in  like  guise  was  Adam's  spirit  moved 

To  joyous  mood,  that  through  the  covering  shone, 

Transparent,  when  to  pleasure  me  it  spake  : 

"  No  need  thy  will  be  told,  which  I  untold 

Better  discern,  than  thou  whatever  thing 

Thou  hold'st  most  certain  :    for  that  will   I  see 

In  Him,  who  is  truth's  mirror;   and   Himself, 

Parhelion    unto  all  things,  and  nought  else. 

To  Him.      This  wouldst  thou  hear :    how  long  since,  God 

Placed  me  in  that  high  garden,  from  whose  bounds 

She  led  me  up  this  ladder,  steep  and  long; 

What  space  endured  my  season  of  delight ; 

Whence  truly  sprang  the  wrath  that  banish'd  me; 

And  what  the  language,  which  I  spake  and  framed. 

Not  that  I  tasted    of  the  tree,  my  son, 

Was  in  itself  the  cause  of  that  exile. 

But  only  my  transgressing  of  the  mark 

Assign'd  me.      There,  whence-  at  thy  lady's  hest 

The  Mantuan  moved  him,  still  was  I  debarr'd 

This  council,  till  the  sun  had  made  complete, 

Four  thousand  and  three  hundred  rounds  and  twice, 

His  annual  journey ;   and,  through  every  light 

In  his  broad  pathway,  saw  I  him  return, 

Thousand  save  seventy  times,  the  whilst  I  dwelt 

Upon  the  earth.      The  language    I  did  use 

Was  worn  away,  or  ever  Nimrod's  race 

Their  unaccomplishable  work  began. 

For  nought,    that  man  inclines  to,  e'er  was  lasting; 

Left  by  his  reason  free,  and  variable 

As  is  the  sky  that  sways  him.      That  he  speaks, 

Is  nature's  prompting  :    whether  thus,  or  thus, 

She  leaves  to  you,  as  ye  do  most  affect  it. 

Ere  I  descended  into  hell's  abyss. 

El     was  the  name  on  earth  of  the  Chief  Good, 

Whose  joy  enfolds  me :    Eli  then  'twas  call'd. 


2  74  I'^E  VISION. 

And  so  beseemeth  :   for,  in  mortals,  use 
Is  as  the  leaf  upon  the  bough  :    that  goes, 
And  other  comes  instead.      Upon  the  mount 
Most  high  above  the  waters,  all  my  life, 
Both  innocent  and  guilty,  did  but  reach 
From  the  first  hour,  to  that  which  comcth  next 
(As  the  sun  changes  quarter)  to  the  sixth." 


CANTO     XXVII. 


ARGUMENT. 

St  Fetcr  bitteriy  rebukes  the  covetousness  of  his  successor":  in  the  apostolic  see,  while  all  the  heaventy  host  sympathiK 
in  his  indignation :  they  then  vanish  upwards.  Beatrice  bids  Dante  again  cast  his  view  below.  Afterwards  they  are 
borne  into  th«  r.inth  heaven,  of  which  she  shows  him  the  nature  and  properties  j  blaming  the  perveneaeM  ot  man, 
who  places  his  will  on  low  and  perishable  things. 

T^HEN  "Glory  to  the  Father,  to  the  Son, 
■^       And  to  the  Holy  Spirit,"  rang  aloud 
Throughout  all  Paradise ;    that  with  the  song 
My  spirit  reel'd,  so  passing  sweet  the  strain. 
And  what  I  saw  was  equal  ecstasy : 
One  universal  smile    it  seem'd  of  all  things ; 
Joy  past  compare  ;    gladness  unutterable  ; 
Imperishable  life  of  peace  and  love ; 
Exhaustless  riches,  and  unmeasured  bliss. 

Before  mine  eyes  stood  the  four  torches    lit: 
And  that,    which  first  had  come,  began  to  wax 
In  brightness  ;    and,  in  semblance,  such  became, 
As  Jove  might  be,  if  he  and  Mars  were  birds, 
And  interchanged  their  plumes.      Silence  ensued, 
Through  the  blest  quire;    by  Him,  who  here  appoints 
Vicissitude  of  ministry,  tnjoin'd  ; 
When  thus  I  heard  :    "  Wonder  not,  if  my  hue 
Be  changed  ;    for,  while  I  speak,  these  shalt  thou  see 
All  in  like  manner  change  with  me.      My  place 
He    who  usurps  on  earth  (my  place,  ay,  mine. 
Which  in  the  presence  of  the  Son  of  God 
Is  void),  the  same  hath  made  my  cemetery 
A  common  sewer  of  puddle  and  of  blood : 
The  more  below  his  triumph,  who  from  hence 
Malignant  fell."      Such  colour,    as  the  sun. 


2;6  THE    VISION. 

At  eve  or  morning,  paints  an  adverse  cloud, 

Then  saw  I  sprinkled  over  all  the  sky. 

And  as  the  unblemish'd  dame,  who,  in  herself 

Secure  from  censure,  yet  at  bare  report 

Of  other's  failine.  shrinks  with  maiden  fear ; 

So  Beatrice,  in  her  semblance,  cnanj^ed  : 

And  such  eclipse  in  heaven,  methinks,  was  seen, 

When  the  Most  Holy  suffer'd.      Then  the  words 

Proceeded,  with  voice,  alter'd  from  itself 

So  clean,  the  semblance  did  not  alter  more. 

"  Not  to  this  end  was  Christ's  spouse  with  my  blood, 

With  that  of  Linus,  and  of  Cletus,    fed  ; 

That  she  might  serve  for  purpose  of  base  gold  : 

But  for  the  purchase  of  this  happy  life. 

Did  Sextus,  Pius,  and  Callixtus  bleed. 

And  Urban  ;     they,  whose  doom  was  not  without 

Much  weeping  seal'd.      No  purpose  was  of  ours, 

That  on  the  right  hand  of  our  successors, 

Part  of  the  Christian  people  should  be  set. 

And  part  upon  their  left ;    nor  that  the  keys. 

Which  were  vouchsafed  me,  should  for  ensign  serve 

Unto  the  banners,  that  do  levy  war 

On  the  baptized  :    nor  I,  for  sigil-mark, 

Set  upon  sold  and  lying  privileges : 

Which  makes  me  oft  to  bicker  and  turn  red. 

In  shepherd's  clothing,  greedy  wolves    below 

Range  wide  o'er  all  the  pastures.      Arm  of  God  I 

Why  longer  sleep'st  thou?     Cahorsines  and  Gascons 

Prepare  to  quaff  our  blood.      O  good  beginning! 

To  what  a  vile  conclusion  must  thou  stoop. 

But  the  high  providence,  which  did  defend. 

Through  Scipio,  the  world's  empery  for  Rome, 

Will  not  delay  its  succour:   and  thou,  son. 

Who  through  thy  mortal  weight  shalt  yet  again 

Return  below,  open  thy  lips,  nor  hide 

What  is  by  me  not  hidden."      As  a  flood 

Of  frozen  vapours  streams  adown  the  air, 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XXVII.  277 

What  time  the  she-goat     with  her  skiey  horn 

Touches  the  sun  ;   so  saw  I  there  stream  wide 

The  vapours,  who  with  us  had  linger'd  late, 

And  with  glad  triumph  deck  the  ethereal  cope. 

Onward  my  sight  their  semblances  pursued ; 

So  far  pursued,  as  till  the  space  between 

From  its  reach  sever'd  them :   whereat  the  guide 

Celestial,  marking  me  no  more  intent 

On  upward  gazing,  said,  "  Look  down,  and  see 

What  circuit  thou  hast  compast."     From  the  hour 

When  I  before  had  cast  my  view  beneath, 

All  the  first  region  overpast  I  saw. 

Which  from  the  midmost  to  the  boundary  winds; 

That  onward,  thence,  from  Gades,    I  beheld 

The  unwise  passage  of  Laertes'  son  ; 

And  hitherward  the  shore,    where  thou,  Europa, 

Madest  thee  a  joyful  burden  ;   and  yet  more 

Of  this  dim  spot  had  seen,  hut  that  the  sun, 

A  constellation  off  and  more,  had  ta'en 

His  progress  in  the  zodiac  underneath. 

Then  by  the  spirit,  that  doth  never  leave 
Its  amorous  dalliance  with  my  lady's  looks. 
Back  with  redoubled  ardour  were  mine  eyes 
Led  unto  her :   and  from  her  radiant  smiles, 
Whenas  I  turn'd  me,  pleasure  so  divine 
Did  lighten  on  me,  that  whatever  bait 
Or  art  or  nature  in  the  human  flesh. 
Or  in  its  limn'd  resemblance,  can  combine 
Through  greedy  eyes  to  take  the  soul  withal, 
Were,  to  her  beauty,  nothing.      Its  boon  influence 
From  the  fair  nest  of  Leda    rapt  me  forth, 
And  wafted  on  into  the  swiftest  heaven. 

What  place  for  entrance  Beatrice  chose, 
I  may  not  say;    so  uniform  was  all. 
Liveliest  and  loftiest.      She  -my  secret  wish 
Divined  ;   and,  with  such  gladness,  that  God's  love 
Seem'd  from  her  visage  shining,  thus  began  : 


2/8  TIIF.   VISION.  100-1^8. 

"  Here  is  the  tjoal,  whence  motion  on  his  race 

Starts  :    motionless  the  centre,  and  the  rest 

All  moved  around.       Except  the  soul  divine, 

Place  in  this  heaven  is  none ;   the  soul  divine, 

Wherein  the  love,  which  rulelh  o'er  its  orb, 

Is  kindled,  and  the  virtue,  that  it  sheds : 

One  circle,  light  and  love,  enclasping  it, 

Ai  this  doth  clasp  the  others  ;   and  to  Him, 

Who  draws  the  bound,  its  limit  only  known. 

Measured  itself  by  none,  it  doth  divide 

Motion  to  all,  counted  unto  them  forth, 

As  by  the  fifth  or  half  ye  count  forth  ten. 

The  vase,  wherein  time's  roots    are  plunged,  thou  secst: 

Look  elsewhere  for  the  leaves.     O  mortal  lust  I 

That  canst  not  lift  thy  head  above  the  waves 

Which  whelm  and  sink  thee  down.     The  will  in  man 

Bears  goodly  blossoms ;   but  its  ruddy  promise 

Is,  by  the  dripping  of  perpetual  rain, 

Made  mere  abortion :   faith  and  innocence 

Are  met  with  but  in  babes ;   each  taking  leave, 

Ere  cheeks  with  down  are  sprinkled :    he,  that  fasts 

While  yet  a  stammerer,  with  his  tongue  let  loose 

Gluts  every  food  alike  in  every  moon: 

One,  yet  a  babbler,  loves  and  listens  to 

His  mother;   but  no  sooner  hath  free  use 

Of  speech,  than  he  doth  wish  her  in  her  grave. 

So  suddenly  doth  the  fair  child  of  him, 

Whose  welcome  is  the  morn  and  eve  his  parting, 

To  negro  blackness  change  her  virgin  white 

"Thou,  to  abate  thy  wonder,  note,  that  none 
Bears  rule  in  earth  ;    and  its  frail  family 
Are  therefore  wanderers.     Yet  before  the  date, 
When,  through  the  hundredth  in  his  reckoning  dropt. 
Pale  January  must  be  shoved  aside 
From  winter's  calendar,  these  heavenly  spheres 
Shall  roar  so  loud,  that  fortune  shall  be  fain 
To  turn  the  poop,  where  she  hath  now  the  prowj 
So  that  the  fleet  run  onward  :    and  true  fruit, 
Expected  long,  shall  crown  at  last  the  bloom." 


CANTO      XXVIII. 


ARGUMENT. 

Still  in  the  ninth  heaven,  our  Poet  is  permitted  to  behold  the  divine  essence ;  uid  then  seem,  in  three  hienutJtUi, 
the  nine  choirs  of  angels.     Beatrice  clears  some  difficulties  which  occur  to  him  on  this  occasion. 

00  she,  who  doth  imparadise  my  soul, 

*^     Had  drawn  the  veil  from  off  our  present  life, 

And  bared  the  truth  of  poor  mortality : 

When  lo  I   as  one  who,  in  a  mirror,  spies 

The  shining  of  a  flambeau  at  his  back, 

Lit  sudden  ere  he  deem  of  its  approach, 

And  turneth  to  resolve  him,  if  the  glass 

Have  told  him  true,  and  sees  the  record  faithful 

As  note  is  to  its  metre;   even  thus, 

1  well  remember,  did  befall  to  me, 

Looking  upon  the  beauteous  eyes,  whence  love 

Had  made  the  leash  to  take  me.     As  I  turn'd : 

And  that  which  none,  who  in  that  volume    looks, 

Can  miss  of,  in  itself  apparent,  struck 

My  view;   a  point  I  saw,  that  darted  light 

So  sharp,  no  lid,  unclosing,  may  bear  up 

Against  its  keenness.     The  least  star  we  ken 

From  hence,  had  seem'd  a  moon ;   set  by  its  side, 

As  star  by  side  of  star.     And  so  far  off, 

Perchance,  as  is  the  halo  from  the  light 

Which  paints  it,  when  most  dense  the  vapour  spreads; 

There  wheel'd  about  the  point  a  circle  of  fire, 

More  rapid  than  the  motion  which  surrounds, 

Speediest,  the  world.     Another  this  enring'd; 

And  that  a  third;   the  third  a  fourth,  and  that 

A  fifth  encompass'd;   which  a  sixth  next  bound; 

And  over  this,  a  seventh,  following,  reach'd 

Circumference  so  ample,  that  its  bow, 


■fj^4^jJUu&^^^^  SU^ 


28o  THI-:    VISION.  29-64. 

Within  the  span  of  Juno's  messenger, 

Had  scarce  been  held  entire.     Beyond  the  seventh, 

Ensued  yet  other  two.     And  every  one, 

As  more  in  number  distant  from  the  first, 

Was  tardier  in  motion  :   and  that  glow'd 

With  flame  most  pure,  that  to  the  sparkle  of  truth, 

Was  nearest;   as  partaking  most,  methinks. 

Of  its  reality.     The  guide  beloved 

Saw  me  in  anxious  thought  suspense,  and  spake: 

"  Heaven,  and  all  nature,  hangs  upon  that  point 

The  circle  thereto  most  conjoin'd  observe; 

And  know,  that  by  intenscr  love  its  course 

Is,  to  this  swiftness,  wing'd."     To  whom  I  thus's 

"  It  were  enough  ;   nor  should  I  further  seek, 

Had  I  but  witness'd  order,  in  the  world 

Appointed,  such  as  in  these  wheels  is  seen. 

But  in  the  sensible  world  such  difference    is. 

That  in  each  round  shows  more  divinity, 

As  each  is  wider  from  the  centre.     Hence 

If  in  this  wondrous  and  angelic  temple. 
That  hath,  for  confine,  only  light  and  love. 

My  wish  may  have  completion,  I  must  know. 

Wherefore  such  disagreement  is  between 

The  exemplar  and  its  copy :   for  myself, 

Contemplating,  I  fail  to  pierce  the  cause." 
"  It  is  no  marvel,  if  thy  fingers  foil'd 

Do  leave  the  knot  untied  :    so  hard  'tis  grown 

For  want  of  tenting."    Thus  she  said :    "  But  take,^ 

She  added,  "  if  thou  wish  thy  cure,  my  words, 

And  entertain  them  subtly.     Every  orb, 

Corporeal,  doth  proportion  its  extent 

Unto  the  virtue  through  its  parts  diffused. 

The  greater  blessedness  preserves  the  more. 

The  greater  is  the  body  (if  all  parts 

Share  equally)  the  more  is  to  preserve. 

Therefore  the  circle,  whose  swift  course  enwheels 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XXVI II. 

The  universal  frame,  answers  to  that 

Which  is  supreme  in  knowledge  and  in  love. 

Thus  by  the  virtue,  not  the  seeming  breadth 

Of  substance,  measuring,  thou  shalt  see  the  heavens. 

Each  to  the  intelligence  that  ruleth  it, 

Greater  to  more,  and  smaller  unto  less, 

Suited  in  strict  and  wondrous  harmony." 

As  when  the  north  blows  from  his  milder  cheek 
A  blast,  that  scours  the  sky,  forthwith  our  air, 
Clear'd  of  the  rack  that  hung  on  it  before. 
Glitters;   and,  with  his  beauties  all  unveil'd. 
The  firmament  looks  forth  serene,  and  smiles: 
Such  was  my  cheer,  when  Beatrice  drove 
With  dear  reply  the  shadows  back,  and  truth 
Was  manifested  as  a  star  in  heaven. 
And  when  the  words  were  ended,  not  unlike 
To  iron  in  the  furnace,  every  cirque, 
Ebullient,  shot  forth  scintillating  fires : 
And  every  sparkle  shivering  to  new  blaze, 
In  number    did  outmillion  the  account 
Reduplicate  upon  the  chequer'd  board. 
Then  heard  I  echoing  on,  from  choir  to  choir. 
"  Hosanna,"  to  the  fixed  point,  that  holds, 
And  shall  for  ever  hold  them  to  their  place, 
From  everlasting,  irremovable. 

Musing  awhile  I  stood :   and  she,  who  saw 
My  inward  meditations,  thus  began  : 
"  In  the  first  circles,  they,  whom  thou  beheld'st, 
Are  seraphim  and  cherubim.     Thus  swift 
Follow  their  hoops,  in  likeness  to  the  point. 
Near  as  they  can,  approaching;   and  they  can 
The  more,  the  loftier  their  vision.     Those 
That  round  them  fleet,  gazing  the  Godhead  next. 
Are  thrones;    in  whom  the  first  trine  ends.     And  all 
Are  blessed,  even  as  their  sight  descends 
Deeper  into  llie  truth,  wherein   rest  is 


282  THE   VISION. 

For  every  mind.     Thus  happiness  hath  root 

In  seeing,  not  in  loving,  which  of  sight 

Is  aftergrowth.     And  of  the  seeing  such 

The  meed,  as  unto  each,  in  due  degree, 

Grace  and  good-will  their  measure  have  assign'd. 

The  other  trine,  that  with  still  opening  buds 

In  this  eternal  springtide  blossom  lair, 

Fearless  of  bruising  from  the  nightly  ram, 

Breathe  up  in  warbled  melodies  threefold 

Hosannas,  blending  ever;    from  the  three. 

Transmitted,  hierarchy  of  gods,  for  aye 

Rejoicing;   dominations    first;    next  them, 

Virtues ;   and  powers  the  third ;   the  next  to  whom 

Are  princedoms  and  archangels,  with  glad  round 

To  tread  their  festal  ring;   and  last,  the  band 

Angelical,  disporting  in  their  sphere. 

All,  as  they  circle  in  their  orders,  look 

Aloft ;    and,  downward,  with  such  sway  prevail. 

That  all  with  mutual  impulse  tend  to  God. 

These  once  a  mortal  view  beheld.     Desire, 

In  Dionysius,    so  intensely  wrought, 

That  he,  as  I  have  done,  ranged  them  ;   and  named 

Their  orders,  marshal'd  in  his  thought.     From  him, 

Dissentient,  one  refused  his  sacred  read. 

But  soon  as  in  this  heaven  his  doubting  eyes 

Were  open'd,  Gregory    at  his  error  smiled. 

Nor  marvel,  that  a  denizen  of  earth 

Should  scan  such  secret  truth  ;    for  he  had  learnt 

Both  this  and  much  beside  of  these  our  orbs. 

From  an  eye-witness  to  heaven's  mysteries." 


CANTO    XXIX. 


ARGUMENT. 

Beatrice  beholds,  in  the  mirror  of  divine  truth,  some   doubts  which   had  entered   the  mind  of  Dante.    These  the 

resolves  ;  and  then  digresses  into  a  vehement  reprehension  of  certain  theologians  and  preachers  in  those  da)rs, 
whose  ignorance  or  avarice  induced  them  to  substitute  their  own  inventions  for  the  pure  word  of  the  Gospel 


"\T0  longer,    than  what  time  Latona's  twins 
■*■  ^     Cover'd  of  Libra  and  the  fleecy  star, 
Together  both,  girding  the  horizon  hang; 
In  even  balance,  from  the  zenith  poised ; 
Till  from  that  verge,  each,  changing  hemisphere, 
Part  the  nice  level ;   e'en  so  brief  a  space 
Did  Beatrice's  silence  hold.     A  smile 
Sat  painted  on  her  cheek ;   and  her  fix'd  gaze 
Bent  on  the  point,  at  which  my  vision  fail'd : 
When  thus,  her  words  resuming,  she  began : 
"I  speak,  nor  what  thou  wouldst  inquire,  demand; 
For  I  have  mark'd  it,  where  all  time  and  place 
Are  present.     Not  for  increase  to  himself 
Of  good,  which  may  not  be  increased,  but  forth 
To  manifest  his  glory  by  its  beams ; 
Inhabiting  his  own  eternity, 
Beyond  time's  limit  or  what  bound  soe'er 
To  circumscribe  his  being ;   as  he  will'd, ' 
Into  new  natures,  like  unto  himself, 
Eternal  love  unfolded :   nor  before. 
As  if  in  dull  inaction,  torpid,  lay, 
For,  not  in  process  of  before  or  aft, 
Upon  these  waters  moved  the  Spirit  of  God. 
Simple  and  mix'd,  both  form  and  substance,    forth 


284  THE    VISION.  25—60. 

To  perfect  being  started,  like  three  darts 

Shot  from  a  bow  three-corded.     And  as  ray 

In  crystal,  glass,  and  amber,  shines  entire. 

E'en  at  the  moment  of  its  issuing ;   thus 

Did,  from  the  eternal  Sovran,  beam  entire 

His  threefold  operation,    at  one  act 

Produced  coeval.     Yet,  in  order,  each 

Created  his  due  station  knew:    those  highest, 

Who  pure  intelligence  were  made;    mere  power, 

The  lowest;    in  the  midst,  bound  with  strict  league^ 

Intelligence  and  power,  unsever'd  bond. 

Long  tract  of  ages  by  the  angels  past, 

Ere  the  creating  of  another  world, 

Described  on  Jerome's  pages,    thou  hast  seen. 

But  that  what  I  disclose  to  thee  is  true, 

Those  penmen,    whom  the  Holy  Spirit  mo\ed, 

In  many  a  passage  of  their  sacred  book, 

Attest;   as  thou  by  diligent  search  shalt  find: 

And  reason,    in  some  sort,  discerns  the  same. 

Who  scarce  would  grant  the  heavenly  ministers, 

Of  their  perfection  void,  so  long  a  space. 

Thus  when  and  where  these  spirits  of  love  were  made, 

Thou  know'st,  and  how:    and,  knowing,  hast  allay 'd 

Thy  thirst,  which  from  the  triple  question     rose. 

Ere  one  had  reckon'd  twenty,  e'en  so  soon, 

Part  of  the  angels  fell  :   and,  in  their  fall. 

Confusion  to  your  elements    ensued. 

The  others  kept  their  station :   and  this  task, 

Whereon  thou  look'st,  began,  with  such  delight, 

That  they  surcease  not  ever,  day  nor  night. 

Their  circling.     Of  that  /atal  lapse  the  cause 

Was  the  curst  pride  of  him,  whom  thou  hast  seen 

Pent    with  the  world's  incumbrance.     Those,  whom  here 

Thou  seest,  were  lowly  to  confess  themselves 

Of  his  free  bounty,  who  had  made  them  apt 

For  ministries  so  high :   therefore  their  views 


TARADISE.— CANTO   XXIX.  285 

Were,  by  enlightening  grace  and  their  own  merit, 
Exalted ;   so  that  in  their  will  confirm'd 
They  stand,  nor  fear  to  fall.     For  do  not  doubt, 
But  to  receive  the  grace,  which   Heaven  vouchsafes. 
Is  meritorious,    even  as  the  soul 
With  prompt  affection  wclcometh  the  guest. 
Now,  without  further  help,  if  with  good  heed 
My  words  thy  mind  have  treasured,  thou  henceforth 
This  consistory  round  about  mayst  scan. 
And  gaze  thy  fill.     But,  since  thou  hast  on  earth 
Heard  vain  disputers,  reasoners  in  the  schools, 
Canvass  the  angelic  nature,  and  dispute 
Its  powers  of  apprehension,  memory,  choice; 
Therefore,  'tis  well  thou  take  from  me  the  truth. 
Pure  and  without  disguise;  which  they  below, 
Equivocating,  darken  and  perplex. 

"Know  thou,  that,  from  the  first,  these  substances, 
Rejoicing  in  the  countenance  of  God, 
Have  held  unceasingly  their  view,  intent 
Upon  the  glorious  vision,  from  the  which 
Nought  absent  is  nor  hid:  where  then  no  change 
Of  newness,  with  succession,  interrupts, 
Remembrance,  there,  needs  none  to  gather  up 
Divided  thought  and  images  remote. 

"So  that  men,  thus  at  variance  with  the  truth. 
Dream,  though  their  eyes  be  open ;    reckless  some 
Of  error;    others  well  aware  they  err, 
To  whom  more  guilt  and  shame  are  justly  due. 
Each  the  known  track  of  sage  philosophy 
Deserts,  and  has  a  by-way  of  his  own  : 
So  much  the  restless  eagerness  to  shine, 
And  love  of  singularity,  prevail. 
Yet  this,  offensive  as  it  is,  provokes 
Heaven's  anger  less,  than  when  the  book  of  God 
Is  forced  to  yield  to  man's  authority. 
Or  from  its  straightness  wr.rp'd  :    no  reckoning  made 


286  THE    VISION. 

What  blood  the  sowing  of  it  in  the  world 
Has  cost ;   what  favour  for  himself  he  wins, 
Who  meekly  clings  to  it.     The  aim  of  all 
Is  how  to  shine :   e'en  they,  whose  office  is 
To  preach  the  gospel,  let  the  gospel  sleep, 
And  pass  their  own  inventions  off  instead. 
One  tells,  how  at  Christ's  suffering  the  wan  moon 
Bent  back  her  steps,  and  shadow'd  o'er  the  sun 
With  intervenient  disk,  as  she  withdrew: 
Another,  how  the  light  shrouded  itself 
Within  its  tabernacle,  and  left  dark 
The  Spaniard,  and  the  Indian,  with  the  Jew. 
Such  fables  Florence  in  her  pulpit  hears. 
Bandied  about  more  frequent,  than  the  names 
Of  Bindi  and  of  Lapi    in  her  streets. 
The  sheep,    meanwhile,  poor  witless  ones,  return 
From  pasture,  fed  with  wind:   and  what  avails 
For  their  excuse,  they  do  not  see  their  harm? 
Christ  said  not  to  his  first  conventicle, 
'  Go  forth  and  preach  impostures  to  the  world,' 
But  y^ave  them  truth     to  build  on  ;    and  the  sound 
Was  mighty  on  their  lips:    nor  needed  they, 
Beside  the  gospel,  other  spear  or  shield. 
To  aid  them  in  their  warfare  for  the  faith. 
The  preacher    now  provides  himself  with  stor^ 
Of  jests  and  gibes;   and,  so  there  be  no  lack 
Of  laughter,  while  he  vents  them,  his  big  cow! 
Distends,  and  he  has  won  the  meed  he  soujjht: 
Could  but  the  vulgar  catch  a  glimpse  the  while 
Of  that  dark  bird  which  nestles  in  his  hood, 
They  scarce  would  wait  to  hear  the  blessing  said, 
Which  now  the  dotards  hold  in  such  esteem, 
That  every  counterfeit,  who  spreads  abroad 
The  hands  of  holy  promise,  finds  a  throng 
Of  credulous  fools  beneath.     Saint  Anthony 
Fattens  with  this  his  swine,    and  others  worse 


JWRADISE.— CANTO    XXIX.  287 

Than  swine,  who  diet  at  his  lazy  board, 
Paying  with  unstampt  metal    for  their  fare. 

"  But  (for  we  far  have  wander'd)  let  us  seek 
The  forward  path  again ;   so  as  the  way 
Be  shorten'd  with  the  time.     No  mortal  tongue, 
Nor  thought  of  man,  hath  ever  reach'd  so  far, 
That  of  these  natures  he  might  count  the  tribes. 
What  Daniel    of  their  thousands  hath  reveal'd, 
With  finite  number,  infinite  conceals. 
The  fountain,  at  whose  source  these  drink  their  beams, 
With  light  supplies  them  in  as  many  modes, 
As  there  are  splendours  that  it  shines  on:   each 
According  to  the  virtue  it  conceives, 
Differing  in  love  and  sweet  affection. 
Look  then  how  lofty  and  how  huge  in  breadth 
The  eternal  might,  which,  broken  and  dispersed 
Over  such  countless  mirrors,  yet  remains 
Whole  in  itself  and  one,  as  at  the  first* 


CANTO      XXX, 


ARGUMENT. 


Dante  is  taken  op  with  Beatrice  Into  the  empyrean  ;  and  there  having  his  sight  strengthened  by  her  aid,  and  bj 
the  virtue  derived  from  looking  on  the  river  of  light,  he  sees  the  triumph  of  the  angels  and  of  the  souls  of  th< 
blessed 

NOON'S  fervid  hour  perchance  six  thousand  miles 
From  hence  is  distant;   and  the  shadowy  cone 
Almost  to  level  on  our  earth  declines ; 
When,  from  the  midmost  of  this  blue  abyss, 
By  turns  some  star  is  to  our  vision  lost. 
And  straightway  as  the  handmaid  of  the  sun 
Puts  forth  her  radiant  brow,  all,  light  by  light, 
Fade;   and  the  spangled  firmament  shuts  in, 
E'en  to  the  loveliest  of  the  glittering  throng. 
Thus  vanish'd  gradually  from  my  sight 
The  triumph,  which  plays  ever  round  the  point, 
That  overcame  me,  seeming  (for  it  did) 
Engirt    by  that  it  girdeth.     Wherefore  love, 
With  loss  of  other  object,  forced  me  bend 
Mine  eyes  on  Beatrice  once  again. 

If  all,  that  hitherto  is  told  of  her, 
Were  in  one  praise  concluded,  'twere  too  weak 
To  furnish  out  this  turn.      Mine  eyes  did  look 
On  beauty,  such,  as  I  believe  in  sooth, 
Not  merely  to  exceed  our  human ;    but, 
That  save  its  Maker,  none  can  to  the  full 
Enjoy  it.     At  this  point  o'erpower'd  I  fail; 
Unequal  to  my  theme;   as  never  bard 
Of  buskin  or  of  sock  hath  fail'd  before. 
For  as  the  sun  doth  to  the  feeblest  sight. 


PARADISE.— CANTO    XXX. 

E'en  so  remembrance  of  that  witching  smile 
Hath  disposscst  my  spirit  of  itself. 
Not  from  that  day,  when  on  this  earth  I  first 
Beheld  her  charms,  up  to  that  view  of  them. 
Have  I  with  song  applausive  ever  ceased 
To  follow;    but  now  follow  them  no  more; 
My  course  here  bounded,  as  eacn  artist's  is, 
When  it  doth  touch  the  limit  of  his  skill. 

She  (such  as  I  bequeath  her  to  the  bruit 
Of  louder  trump  than  mine,  which  hastencth  00^ 
Urging  its  arduous  matter  to  the  close) 
Her  words  resumed,  in  gesture  and  in  voice 
Resembling  one  accustom'd  to  command : 
"  Forth    from  the  last  corporeal  are  we  come 
Into  the  heaven,  that  is  unbodied  light; 
Light  intellectual,  replete  with  love; 
Love  of  true  happiness,  replete  with  joy; 
Joy,  that  transcends  all  sweetness  of  delight 
Here  shalt  thou  look  on  either  mighty  host 
Of  Paradise;   and  one  in  that  array. 
Which  in  the  final  judgment  thou  shalt  see.** 

As  when  the  lightning,  in  a  sudden  spleen 
Unfolded,  dashes  from  the  blinding  eyes 
The  visive  spirits,  dazzled  and  bedimm'd ; 
So,  round  about  me,  fulminating  streams 
Of  living  radiance  play'd,  and  left  me  swathed 
And  veil'd  in  dense  impenetrable  blaze. 
Such  weal  is  in  the  love,  that  stills  this  heaven; 
For  its  own  flame    the  torch  thus  fitting  ever. 

No  sooner  to  my  listening  ear  had  come 
The  brief  assurance,  than   I  understood 
New  virtue  into  me  infused,  and  sight 
Kindled  afresh,  with  vigour  to  sustain 
Excess  of  light  however  pure.      I  look'd; 
And,  in  the  likeness  of  a  river,  saw 
Light  flowing,    from  whose  amber-seeming  waves 


290       .  THE   VISION.  62—97. 

Flash'd  up  effulgence,  as  they  glided  on 

'Twixt  banks,  on  either  side,  painted  with  spring, 

Incredible  how  fair :   and,  from  the  tide, 

There  ever  and  anon,  outstarting,  flew 

Sparkles  instinct  with  life;   and  in  the  flowers 

Did  set  them,  like  to  rubies  chased  in  gold  : 

Then,  as  if  drunk  with  odours,  plunged  again 

Into  the  wondrous  flood  ;   from  which,  as  one 

Re-enter'd,  still  another  rose.      "The  thirst 

Of  knowledge  high,  whereby  thou  art  inflamed, 

To  search  the  meaning  of  what  here  thou  seest. 

The  more  it  warms  thee,  pleases  me  the  more. 

But  first  behoves  thee  of  this  water  drink, 

Or  e'er  that  longing  be  allay 'd."      So  spake 

The  day-star  of  mine  eyes  :   then  thus  subjoin'd  : 

"This  stream;   and  these,  forth  issuing  from  its  gulf. 

And  diving  back,  a  living  topaz  each ; 

With  all  this  laughter  on  its  bloomy  shores ; 

Are  but  a  preface,  shadowy  of  the  truth 

They  emblem  :    not  tha;,  in  themselves,  the  things 

Are  crude  ;  but  on   thy  part  is  the  defect, 

For  that  thy  views  not  yet  aspire  so  high." 

Never  did  babe  that  had  outslept  his  wont, 
Rush,  with  such  eager  straining,  to  the  milk, 
As  I  toward  the  water ;    bending  me. 
To  make  the  better  mirrors  of  mine  eyes 
In  the  refining  wave  :   and  as  the  eaves 
Of  mine  eyelids    did  drink  of  it,  forthwith 
Seem'd  it  unto  me  turned  from  length  to  round. 
Then  as  a  troop  of  masU/s,  when  they  put 
Their  vizors  off,  look  c/ther  than  before ; 
The  counterfeited  semblance  thrown  aside ; 
So  into  greater  jubilee  were  changed 
Those  flowers  and  sparkles;   and  distinct  I  saw, 
Before  me,  either  court    of  heaven  display'd. 

O  prime  enlightener  I   thou  who  gavcst  me  strength 


98—135-  PARADISE.— CANTO    XXX.  29I 

On  the  high  triumph  of  thy  realm  to  gaze 
Grant  virtue  now  to  utter  what  I  kenn'd. 

There  is  in  heaven  a  light,  whose  goodly  shine 
Makes  the  Creator  visible  to  all 
Created,  that  in  seeing  him  alone 
Have  peace ;   and  in  a  circle  spreads  so  far, 
That  the  circumference  were  too  loose  a  zone 
To  girdle  in  the  sun.      All  is  one  beam, 
Reflected  from  the  summit  of  the  first. 
That  moves,  which  being  hence  and  vigour  takes. 
And  as  some  cliff,    that  from  the  bottom  eyes 
His  image  mirror'd  in  the  crystal  flood, 
As  if  to  admire  his  brave  apparelling 
Of  verdure  and  of  flowers  ;   so,  round  about, 
Eying  the  light,  on  more  than  million  thrones, 
Stood,  eminent,  whatever  from  our  earth 
Has  to  the  skies  return'd.     How  wide  the  leaves. 
Extended  to  their  utmost,  of  this  rose, 
Whose  lowest  step  embosoms  such  a  space 
Of  ample  radiance  I      Yet,  nor  amplitude 
Nor  height  impeded,  but  my  view  with  ease 
Took  in  the  full  dimensions  of  that  joy. 
Near  or  remote,  what  there  avails,  where  God 
Immediate  rules,  and  Nature,  awed,  suspends 
Her  sway?      Into  the  yellow  of  the  rose 
Perennial,  which,  in  bright  expansivcness, 
Lays  forth  its  gradual  blooming,  redolent 
Of  praises  to  the  never-wintering  sun. 
As  one,  who  fain  would  speak  yet  holds  his  peace, 
Beatrice  led  me ;   and,  "  Behold,"  she  said, 
"This  lair  assemblage;   stoles  of  snowy  white, 
How  numberless.      The  city,  where  we  dwell. 
Behold  how  vast;   and  these  our  seats  so  throng'd. 
Few  now  are  wanting  here.      In  that  proud  stall, 
On  which,  the  crown,  already  o'er  its  state 
Suspended,  holds  thine  eyes — or  e'er  thyself 
Mayst  at  the  wedding  sup, — shall  rest  the  soul 
Of  the  gr:at  Harry,    he  who,  by  the  world 


292  THE    VISION.  136-146. 

Aug-dstus  hail'd,  to  Italy  must  come, 
Before  her  day  be  ripe.      But  ye  are  sick. 
And  in  your  tetchy  wantonness  as  blind, 
As  is  the  bantling,  that  of  hunger  dies, 
And  drives  away  the  nurse.      Nor  may  it  be. 
That  h'^,    who  in  the  sacred  forum  sways, 
Openly  or  in  secret,  shall  with  him 
Accordant  walk  :   whom  God  will  not  endure 
r  the  holy  office  long ;    but  thrust  him  down 
To  Simon  Magus,  where  Alagna's  priest 
Will  sink  beneath  him :   such  will  be  his  meed.* 


CANTO     XXXI. 


ARGUMENT. 


The  Poet  expatiates  further  on  the  pjlorious  vision  described  in  the  last  Canta  On  looking  round  for  Beatrice,  he  ftnds 
that  she  has  left  him,  and  t;,at  an  old  man  is  at  his  side.  This  proves  to  be  St.  Bernard,  who  »hows  him  thai 
Beatrice  has  returned  to  her  throne,  and  then  poinU  out  to  him  the  blessedness  of  the  Virgin  Mother. 

T  N  fashion,  as  a  snow  white  rose,  lay  then 

-*■      Before  my  view  the  saintly  multitude, 

Which  in  his  own  blood  Christ  espoused.      Meanwhile, 

That  other  host,    that  soar  aloft  to  gaze 

And  celebrate  his  glory,  whom  they  love, 

Hover'd  around  ;   and,  like  a  troop  of  bees, 

Amid  the  vernal  sweets  alighting  now. 

Now,  clustering,  where  their  fragrant  labour  glows, 

Flew  downward  to  the  mighty  flower,  or  rose 

From  the  redundant  petals,  streaming  back 

Unto  the  stedfast  dwelling  of  their  joy. 

Faces  had  they  ^t  flame,  and  wings  of  gold ; 

The  rest  was  whiter  than  the  driven  snow; 

And,  as  they  flitted  down  into  the  flower, 

From  range  to  range,  fanning  their  plumy  loins 

Whisper'd  the  peace  and  ardour,  which  they  won 

From  that  soft  winnowing.      Shadow  none,  the  vast 

Interposition  of  such  numerous  flight 

Cast,  from  above,  upon  the  flower,  or  view 

Obstructed  aught.      For,  through  the  universe, 

Wherever  merited,  celestial  light 

Glides  freely,  and  no  obstacle  prevents. 

All  there,  who  reign  in  safety  and  in  blisa^ 
Ages  long  past  or  new,  on  one  sole  mark 
Their  love  and  vision  fix'd.      O  trinal  beam 


294  THE   VISION.  ,.    . 

20 01 

Of  individual  star,  that  charm'st  them  thus  I 

Vouchsafe  one  glance  to  gild  our  storm  below. 

If  the  grim  brood,    from  Arctic  shores  that  roa.u'd 

(Where  Helice    for  ever,  as  she  wheels, 

Sparkles  a  mother's  fondness  on  her  son), 

Stood  in  mute  wonder  'mid  the  works  of  Rome, 

When  to  their  view  the  Lateran  arose 

In  greatness  more  than  earthly ;    I,  who  then 

From  human  to  divine  had  past,  from  time 

Unto  eternity,  and  out  of  Florence 

To  justice  and  to  truth,  how  might  I  chuse 

But  marvel  too?      'Twixt  gladness  and  amaze, 

In  sooth  no  will  had  I  to  utter  aught. 

Or  hear.      And,  as  a  pilgrim,  when  he  rests 

Within  the  temple  of  his  vow,  looks  round 

In  breathless  awe,  and  hopes  some  time  to  tell 
Of  all  its  goodly  state;   e'en  so  mine  eyes 
Coursed  up  and  down  along  the  living  light. 
Now  low,  and  now  aloft,  and  now  around, 
Visiting  every  step.      Looks  I  beheld. 
Where  charity  in  soft  persuasion  sat ; 
Smiles  from  within,  and  radiance  from  above ; 
And,  in  each  gesture,  grace  and  honour  high. 

So  roved  my  ken,  and  in  its  general  form 
All  Paradise  survey'd  :   when  round  I  turn'd 
With  purpose  of  my  lady  to  inquire 
Once  more  of  things,  that  held  my  thought  suspense, 
But  answer  found  from  other  than  I  ween'd  ; 
For,  Beatrice  when  I  thought  to  see, 
I  saw  instead  a  senior,  at  my  side, 
Robed,  as  the  rest,  in  glory.      Joy  benign 
Glow'd  in  his  eye,  and  o'er  his  cheek  diffused. 
With  gestures  such  as  spake  a  father's  love. 
And,  "Whither  is  she  vanish'd?"  straight  I  ask'd. 

"By  Beatrice  summon'd,"  he  replied,. 
"I   conic   to   aid   thy   wish.       Looking-  aloft 


^'-97.  PARADISE.-CANTO    XXXI.  2^5 

To  the  third   circle   from   the  hi-hest,   there 

Behold   her  on   the  throne,  wherein   her  merit 

Hath  placed  her."      Answering-  not,   mine  eyes   I  rai^^ed, 

And  saw  her,   where  aloof  she  sat,   her  brow 

A  wreath    reflectint^-  of  eternal   beams. 

Not  from  the  centre  of  the  sea  so  far 

Luito  the  reg-ion  of  the  highest  thunder, 

As  was    ni)-   ken    from  hers;    and  yet  the   form 

Came  through   that  medium    down,   unnnx'd  and   pure. 

"O  lady!     thou  in   whom    my  hopes  have   rest; 
Who,  for  m\-  safety,   hast   not   scorn'd,    in   hell 
To   leave   the  traces   of  th\-  footsteps   mark'd ; 
For  all   mine   eyes   have  seen,    I   to  thy  power 
And  goodness,  virtue   owe  and   grace.     Of  slave 
Thou   hast  to  freedom  brought  mc:    and    no   means. 
For  my   deliverance  apt,   hast   left  untried. 
Thy  liberal  bounty  still   toward  me  keep: 
That,  when   m>-  spirit,   which   thou   madest  whole, 
Is   loosen'd  from   this  body,  it  may   find 
Favour  with   thee."     So    I    my  suit  preferr'd: 
And  she,  so   distant,  as  appear'd,   look'd  down. 
And   smiled;    then  towards  the  eternal    fountain   turn'd. 
And  thus  the  senior,  holy  and  revered: 

"That  thou  at   length   mayst  happily  conclude 

Thy  voyage  (to  which  end  I  was  dispatch'd. 

By  supplication  moved  and  holy  love), 

Let  thy  upsoaring  vision  range,  at  large. 

This  garden  through:    for  so,  by  ray  divine 

Kindled,  thy  ken  a  higher  flight  shall  mount ; 

And   from   heaxen's  queen,  whom  fervent   I  adore. 

All  gracious  aid  befriend   us  ;    for  that   I 

Am   her  own  faithful    Bernard."       Like  a  wight, 

Who  haply   from   Croatia  wends   to  see 

Our  Veronica ;     and  the  while  'tis  shown, 

Hangs  over  it  with  never-sated  gaze, 

And,  all  that  he  hath  heard  revolving,  saith 


296  THE    VISIOX.  98— 13»- 

Unto  himself  in  thought:    "And  didst  thou  look 
E'en  thus,  O  Jesus,  my  true  Lord  and  God  ? 
And  was  this  semblance  thine?"     So  gazed  I  then 
Adoring ;   for  the  charity  of  him, 
Who  musing,  in  this  world  that  peace  enjoy'd, 
Stood  livelily  before  me.      "Child  of  grace  I" 
Thus  he  began  :    "  thou  shalt  not  knowledge  gain 
Of  this  glad  being,  if  thine  eyes  are  held 
Still  in  this  depth  below.     But  search  around 
The  circles,  to  the  furthest,  till  thou  spy 
Seated  in  state,  the  queen,    that  of  this  realm 
Is  sovran."      Straight  mine  eyes  I  raised  ;   and  bright. 
As,  at  the  birth  of  morn,  the  eastern  clime 
Above  the  horizon,  where  the  sun  declines; 
So  to  mine  eyes,  that  upward,  as  from  vale 
To  mountain  sped,  at  the  extreme  bound,  a  part 
Excell'd  in  lustre  all  the  front  opposed. 
And  as  the  glow  burns  ruddiest  o'er  the  wave, 
That  waits  the  ascending  team,  which  Phaeton 
111  knew  to  guide,  and  on  each  part  the  light 
Diminish'd  fades,  intensest  in  the  midst; 
So  burn'd  the  peaceful  oriflamb,    and  slack'd 
On  every  side  the  living  flame  decay 'd. 
And  in  that  midst  their  sportive  pennons  waved 
Thousands  of  angels ;    in  resplendence  each 
Distinct,  and  quaint  adornment.     At  their  glee 
And  carol,  smiled  the  Lovely  One  of  heaven, 
That  joy  was  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  blest. 
Had  I  a  tongue  in  eloquence  as  rich, 
As  is  the  colouring  in  fancy's  loom, 
'Twere  all  too  poor  to  utter  the  least  part 
Of  that  enchantment.      When  he  saw  mine  eyes 
Intent  on  her,  that  charm'd  him  ;   Bernard  gazed 
With  so  exceeding  fondness,  as  infused 
Ardour  into  my  breast,  unfelt  before. 


CANTO      XXXII. 


ARGUMENT. 

St  Bernanl  shows  him,  «»n  their  several  thrones,  the  other  blessed  souls,  both  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament ;  espUini 
to  him  that  their  places  are  assigned  them  by  grace,  and  not  according  to  merit  ;  and  lastly,  tells  him  that  if  he  wouU 
obtain  power  to  descry  what  remained  of  the  heavenly  vision,  he  must  unite  with  him  in  supplication  to  Mary. 

T^REELY  the  sage,  though  wrapt  in  musings  high, 

^        Assumed  the  teacher's  part,  and  mild  began : 

"  The  wound  that  Mary  closed  she    open'd  first, 

Who  sits  so  beautiful  at  Mary's  feet. 

The  third  in  order,  underneath  her,  lol 

Rachel  with  Beatrice :    Sarah  next ; 

Judith;    Rebecca;   and  the  gleaner-maid. 

Meek  ancestress    of  him,  who  sang  the  songs 

Of  sore  repentance  in  his  sorrowful  mood. 

All,  as  I  name  them,  down  from  leaf  to  leaf, 

Are,  in  gradation,  throned  on  the  rose. 

And  from  the  seventh  step,  successively, 

Adown  the  breathing  tresses  of  the  flower, 

Still  doth  the  file  of  Hebrew  dames  proceed. 

For  these  are  a  partition  wall,  whereby 

The  sacred  stairs  are  sever'd,  as  the  faith 

In  Christ  divides  them.      On  this  part,  where  blooms 

Each  leaf  in  full  maturity,  are  set 

Such  as  in  Christ,  or  e'er  he  came,  believed. 

On  the  other,  where  an  intersected  space 

Yet  shows  the  semicircle  void,  abide 

All  they,  who  look'd  to  Christ  already  come 

And  as  our  Lady  on  her  glorious  stool. 

And  they  who  on  their  stools  beneath  her  sit. 

This  way  distinction  make  ;   e'en  so  on  his, 

The  mighty  Baptist  that  way  marks  the  line 

(He  who  endured  the  desert,  and  the  pains 


THE   VISION. 

Of  martyrdom,  and,  for  two  years,    of  hell, 

Yet  still  continued  holy),  and  beneath, 

Augustin ;     Francis;     Benedict;     and  the  rest, 

Thus  far  from  round  to  round.      So  heaven's  decree 

Forecasts,  this  garden,  equ.iliy  to  fill, 

With  faith  in  either  view,  past  or  to  come. 

Learn  too,  that  downward  from  the  step,  which  cleaves, 

Midway,  the  twain  compartments,  none  there  are 

Who  place  obtain  for  merit  of  their  own. 

But  have  through  others'  merit  been  advanced. 

On  set  conditions  ;   spirits  all  released, 

Ere  for  themselves  they  had  the  power  to  chust 

And,  if  thou  mark  and  listen  to  them  well, 

Their  childish  looks  and  voice  declare  as  much. 

"  Here,  silent  as  thou  art,  I  know  thy  doubt ; 
And  gladly  will  I  loose  the  knot,  wherein 
Thy  subtil  thoughts  have  bound  thee.      From  this  realm 
Excluded,  chance  no  entrance  here  may  find  ; 
No  more  than  hunger,  thirst,  or  sorrow  can. 
A  law  immutable  hath  stablish'd  all ; 
Nor  is  there  aught  thou  seest,  that  doth  not  fit, 
Exactly,  as  the  finger  to  the  ring. 
It  is  not,  therefore,  without  cause,  tliat  these, 
O'erspeedy  comers  to  immortal  life. 
Are  different  in  their  shares  of  excellence. 
Our  Sovran  Lord,  that  settleth  this  estate 
In  love  and  in  delight  so  absolute. 
That  wish  can  dare  no  further,  every  soul, 
Created  in  his  joyous  sight  to  dwell, 
With  grace,  at  pleasure,  variously    endows. 
And  for  a  proof  the  effect  may  well  suffice. 
And  'tis  moreover  most  expressly  mark'd 
In  holy  Scripture,    where  the  twins  are  said 
To  have  struggled  in  the  womb.      Therefore,  as  grace 
Inweaves  the  coronet,  so  every  brow 
Weareth  its  proper  hue  of  orient  light. 


PARADISE.-CANTO    XXXII.  299 

And  merely  in  respect  to  his  prime  gift. 

Not  in  reward  of  meritorious  deed, 

Hath  each  his  several  degree  assign'd. 

In  early  times  with  their  own  innocence 

More  was  not  wanting,  than  the  parents'  faith, 

To  save  them  :   those  first  ages  past,  behoved 

That  circumcision  in  the  males  should  imp 

The  flight  of  innocent  wings  :    but  since  the  day 

Of  grace  hath  come,  without  baptismal  rites 

In  Christ  accomplish'd,  innocence  herself 

Must  linger  yet  below.      Now  raise  thy  view 

Unto  the  visage  most  resembling  Christ : 

For,  in  her  splendour  only,  shalt  thou  win 

The  power  to  look  on  him."      Forthwith  I  saw 

Such  floods  of  gladness  on  her  visage  shower'd, 

From  holy  spirits,  winging  that  profound  ; 

That,  whatsoever  I  had  yet  beheld, 

Had  not  so  much  suspended  me  with  wonder, 

Or  shown  me  such  similitude  of  God. 

And  he,  who  had  to  her  descended,  once, 

On  earth,  now  hail'd  in  heaven  ;   and  on  poised  wing, 

"  Ave,  Maria,  gratia  plena,"  sang : 

To  whose  sweet  anthem  all  the  blissful  court, 

From  all  parts  answering,  rang :    that  holier  joy 

Brooded  the  deep  serene.     "  Father  revered  I 

Who  deign'st,  for  me,  to  quit  the  pleasant  place 

Wherein  thou  sittest,  by  eternal  lot ; 

Say,  who  that  angel   is,  that  with  such  glee 

Beholds  our  queen,  and  so  enamour'd  glows 

Of  her  high  beauty,  that  all  fire  he  seems." 

So  I  again  resorted  to  the  lore 
Of  my  wise  teacher,  he.  whom   Marys  charms 
Embellish'd.  as  the  sun  the  morning  star; 
Who  thus  in  answer  spake:    "In  him  are  summo. 
Whate'er  of  buxomness  and  free  delight 
May  be  in  spirit,  or  in  angel,  met: 


THE    VISION'.  100-.36 

And  so  beseems  :    for  that  he  bare  the  palm 

Down  unto  Mary,  when  the  Son  of  God 

Vouchsafed  to  clothe  him  in  terrestrial  weeds. 

Now  let  thine  eyes  wait  heedful  on  my  words; 

And  note  thou  of  this  just  and  pious  realm 

The  chiefest  nobles.      Those,  highest  in  bliss. 

The  twain,  on  each  hand  next  our  empress  throned. 

Are  as  it  were  two  roots  unto  this  rose  : 

He  to  the  left,  the  parent,  whose  rash  taste 

Proves  bitter  to  his  seed  :   and,  on  the  right, 

That  ancient  father  of  the  holy  church. 

Into  whose  keeping  Christ  did  give  the  keys 

Of  this  sweet  flower ;    near  whom  behold  the  scer. 

That,  ere  he  died,  saw  all  the  grievous  times 

Of  the  fair  bride,  who  with  the  lance  and  nails 

Was  won.      And,  near  unto  the  other,  rests 

The  leader,  under  whom,  on  manna,  fed 

The  ungrateful  nation,  fickle,  and  perverse 

On  the  other  part,  facing  to  Peter,  lo  I 

Where  Anna  sits,  so  well  content  to  look 

On  her  loved  daughter,  that  with  moveless  eye 

She  chants  the  loud  hosanna  :    while,  opposed 

To  the  first  father  of  your  mortal  kind, 

Is  Lucia,    at  whose  hest  thy  lady  sped. 

When  on  the  edge  of  ruin  closed  thine  eye. 

"  But  (for  the  vision  hasteneth  to  an  end) 
Here  break  we  off,  as  the  good  workman  doth, 
That  shapes  the  cloak  according  to  the  cloth ; 
And  to  the  primal  love  our  ken  shall  rise ; 
That  thou  mayst  penetrate  the  brightness,  far 
.A.S  sight  can  bear  thee.      Yet,  alas  I    in  sooth 
Beating  thy  pennons,  thinking  to  advance. 
Thou  backward  fall'st.      Grace  then  must  first  be  gain'd; 
Her  grace,  whose  might  can  help  thee.     Thou  in  prayer 
Seek  her:    and,  with  affection,  whilst  I  sue. 
Attend,  and  yield  me  all  thy  heart."     He  said; 
And  thus  the  saintly  orison  began. 


Answering  not,  mine  eyes  I  raised, 
And  saw  her,  where  aloof  she  sat,  her  brow 
A  wreath   reflecting  of  eternal  beams 

Canto  XXX/.,  /o..jbA-i6. 


CANTO     XXX. i:.. 


ARGUMENT. 

^  -PP"«t"  the  Virgin  Mary  that  Dante  may  have  grace  given  him  to  contemplate  the  hrightne«  of  th. 
soZ  n^  7  H  "  ■  ",  T  ^"^'^  ^"'^'^  ■•  -•*  °-''  'hen  himself  prays  to  God  for  ability  to  show  forth 
some  part  of  die  celestuU  glory  m  his  writings.  Lastly,  he  is  admitted  to  .  glimpse  oT  the  p«tt  «y««y  •  the 
Trinity,  and  the  union  of  man  with  God.  ^^  "y««y  ,  tne 

'  r^   VIRGIN  mother,    daughter  of  thy  Son  I 
Created  beings  all  in  lowliness 

Surpassing,  as  in  height  above  them  all; 

Term  by  the  eternal  counsel  pre-ordain'd ; 

Ennobler  of  thy  nature,  so  advanced 

In  thee,  that  its  great  Maker  did  not  scorn, 

To  make  himself  his  own  creation ; 

For  in  thy  womb  rekindling  shone  the  love 

Reveal'd,  whose  genial  influence  makes  now 

This  flower  to  germin  in  eternal  peace: 

Here  thou  to  us,  of  charity  and  love. 

Art,  as  the  noon-day  torch;   and  art,  beneath, 

To  mortal  men,  of  hope  a  living  spring. 

So  mighty  art  thou,  lady,  and  so  great. 

That  he,  who  grace  desireth,  and  comes  not 
To  thee  for  aidance,  fain  would  have  desire 
Fly  without  wings.     Not  only  him,  who  asks, 
Thy  bounty  succours ;    but  doth  freely  oft 
Forerun  the  asking.     Whatsoe'er  may  be 
Of  excellence  in  creature,  pity  mild, 
Relenting  mercy,  large  munificence, 
Are  all  combined  in  thee.     Here  kneeleth  one, 
Who  of  all  spirits  hath  reviewd  tne  state. 
From  the  world's  lowest  gap  unto  this  height 
Suppliant  to  thee  he  kneels,  imploring  grace 


HIE    VISIOX. 

For  virtue  yet  more  high,  to  lift  his  ken 

Toward  the  bliss  supreme.     And  I,  who  ne'er 

Coveted  sight,  more  fondly,  for  myself, 

Than  now  for  him,  my  prayers  to  thee  prefer 

(And  pray  they  be  not  scant),  that  thou  wouldst  drive 

Each  cloud  of  his  mortality  away, 

Through  thine  own  prayers,    that  on  the  sovran  joy 

Unveil'd  he  gaze.     This  yet,  I  pray  thee,  Queen, 

Who  canst  do  what  thou  wilt ;   that  in  him  thou 

Wouldst,  after  all  he  hath  beheld,  preserve 

Affection  sound,  and  human  passions  quell. 

Lol   where,  with  Beatrice,  many  a  saint 

Stretch  their  clasp'd  hands,  in  furtherance  of  my  suit* 

The  eyes,  that  heaven  with  love  and  awe  regards, 
Fix'd  on  the  suitor,  witness'd,  how  benign 
She  looks  on  pious  prayers:   then  fasten'd  they 
On  the  everlasting  light,  wherein  no  eye 
Of  creature,  as  may  well  be  thought,  so  far 
Can  travel  inward.     I,  meanwhile,  who  drew 
Near  to  the  limit,  where  all  wishes  end, 
The  ardour  of  my  wish  (for  so  behoved) 
Ended  within  me.     Beckoning  smiled  the  sage 
That  I  should  look  aloft:    but,  ere  he  bade. 
Already  of  myself  aloft  I  look'd  ; 
For  visual  strength,  refining  more  and  more 
Bare  me  into  the  ray  authentical 
Of  sovran  light.     Thenceforward,  what  I  saw, 
Was  not  for  words  U  speak,  nor  memory's  self 
To  stand  against  such  outrage  on  her  skill. 

As  one,  who  from  a  dream  awaken'd,  sii.ii^ht, 
All  he  hath  seen  forgets;   yet  still  retains 
Impression  of  the  feeling  in  his  dream  ; 
E'en  such  am  I:    for  all  the  vision  dies, 
As  'twere,  away;   and  yet  the  sense  of  sweet. 
That  sprang  from  it,  still  trickles  in  my  heart 
Thus  in  the  sun-thaw  is  the  snow  unseal'd  ; 
Thus  in  the  winds  on  flitting  leaves  was  lost 


63—99.  PARADISE.-CANTO    XXXIII.  30.^ 

The  Sibyl's  sentence.      O  eternal  beam  I 

(Whose  height  what  reach  of  mortal  thought  may  soar?) 

Yield  me  again  some  little  particle 

Of  what  thou  then  appearedst ;   give  my  tongue 

Tower,  but  to  leave  one  sparkle  of  thy  glory, 

Unto  the  race  to  come,  that  shall  not  lose 

Thy  triumph  wholly,  if  thou  waken  aught 

Of  memory  in  me,  and  endure  to  hear 

The  record  sound  in  this  unequal  strain. 

Such  keenness    from  the  living  ray  I  met, 
That,  if  mine  eyes  had  turn'd  away,  methinks, 
I  had  been  lost;   but,  so  embolden'd,  on 
I  pass'd,  as  I  remember,  till  my  view 
Hover'd  the  brink  of  dread  infinitude. 

O  grace,  unenvying  of  thy  boon  I    that  gavest 
Boldness  to  fix  so  earnestly  my  ken 
On  the  everlasting  splendour,  that  I  look'd. 
While  sight  was  unconsumed  ;   and,  in  that  depth, 
Saw  in  one  volume  clasp'd  of  love,  whate'er 
The  universe  unfolds;   all  properties 
Of  substance  and  of  accident,  beheld. 
Compounded,  yet  one  individual  light 
The  whole.     And  of  such  bond  methinks  I  saw 
The  universal  form;    for  that  whene'er 
I  do  but  speak  of  it,  my  soul  dilates 
Beyond  her  proper  self;   and,  till  I  speak, 
One  moment    seems  a  longer  lethargy. 
Than  five-and-twenty  ages  had  appear'd 
To  that  emprize,  that  first  made  Neptune  wonder 
At  Argo's  shadow    darkening  on  his  flood. 

With  fixed  heed,  suspense  and  motionless, 
Wondering  I  gazed;   and  admiration  still 
Was  kindled  as  I  gazed.     It  may  not  be, 
That  one,  who  looks  upon  that  light,  can  turn 
To  other  object,  willingly,  his  view. 
For  all  the  good,  that  will  may  covet,  there 
Is  summ'd  ;   and  all  elsewhere  defective  found, 


304  THE   VISION. 

Complete.      My  tongue  shall  utter  now,  no  more 
E'en  what  remembrance  keeps,  than  could  the  babe's 
That  yet  is  moisten'd  at  his  mother's  breast. 
Not  that  the  semblance  of  the  living  light 
Was  changed  (that  ever  as  at  first  remain'd), 
But  that  my  vision  quickening,  in  that  sole 
Appearance,  still  new  miracles  descried. 
And  toil'd  me  with  the  change.      In  that  abyss 
Of  radiance,  clear  and  lofty,  seem'd,  methought, 
Three  orbs  of  triple  hue,  dipt  in  one  bound  : 
And,  from  another,  one  reflected  seem'd, 
As  rainbow  is  from  rainbow:   and  the  third 
Seem'd  fire,  breathed  equally  from  both.      O  speech  I 
How  feeble  and  how  faint  art  thou,  to  give 
Conception  birth.      Yet  this  to  what  I  saw 
Is  less  than  little.       O  eternal  light  I 
Sole  in  thyself  that  dwell'st ;   and  of  thyself 
Sole  understood,  past,  present,  or  to  come ; 
Thou  smiledst,    on  that  circling,    which  in  thee 
Seem'd  as  reflected  splendour,  while  I  mused ; 
For  I  therein,  methought,  in  its  own  hue 
Beheld  our  image  painted  :    stedfastly 
I  therefore  pored  upon  the  view.      As  one, 
Who  versed  in  geometric  lore,  would  fain 
Measure  the  circle ;   and,  though  pondering  long 
And  deeply,  that  beginning,  which  he  needs, 
Finds  not:  e'en  such  was  I,  intent  to  scan 
The  novel  wonder,  and  trace  out  the  form, 
How  to  the  circle  fitted,  and  therein 
How  placed:   but  the  flight  was  not  for  my  wing; 
Had  not  a  flash  darted  athwart  my  mind, 
And,  in  the  spleen,  unfolded  what  it  sought. 
Here  vigour  fail'd  the  towering  fantasy : 
But  yet  the  will  roll'd  onward,  like  a  wheel 
In  even  motion,  by  the  love  impell'd, 
That  moves  the  sun  in  heaven  and  all  the  stara. 


w 


